I Need You
by PugNTurtle
Summary: An injury. A marriage that he doesn't want. A hostage situation. A revelation. The many twists and turns that it takes for Gilbert Grissom and Catherine Willows to come together. Grillows all the way. Reviews are much appreciated! --COMPLETE--
1. Bruised

Title: I Need You

Author: Katie

Rating: T/PG Nothing too bad here.

Characters: Catherine, Grissom, Nick, Hodges, Greg, Doc Robbins, Lindsey

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. If I did, I'd have a kick ass Mercedes SL550 like Marg Helgenberger. No harm is meant.

Author's Note: Well, this is my first CSI fic. I've done SVU and WWE based fics, but this is my first stab at the epic dynasty known as CSI. I'm a Grillows shipper all the way, though I do love some YoBling too. Please, let me know what you think. Thanks to Katy for beta-ing!

~/~

The headache was inevitable. There was no doubt about it.

Catherine Willows sighed, pressing her thumb and index fingers on the bridge of her nose, trying to will the migraine away with her fingertips. For the last five minutes, Greg Sanders and David Hodges had been arguing. Every time Catherine attempted to interject, either Greg or Hodges would cut her off. It was to the point where she was about to stand up and scream at the two of them, to yell that they were being highly unprofessional.

How they even got to this point, she wasn't sure. It was a simple case. Open and close. But then Hodges-or was it Greg? Catherine didn't really even care anymore- misplaced the papers that confirmed the DNA match from the victim to the suspect. Nothing major that probably couldn't be fixed with a simple click of the print button on the computer. However, since Grissom had left, Hodges seemed a little tense. Quick to start arguments…well, more so than usual. His smart assed tendencies were causing tension in the lab, and no matter how many pep talks about the good of the lab or warnings about working as a team that Catherine gave him, he was still starting trouble.

"Greg. That's enough. Take a few minutes to cool off!" Catherine finally snapped above Hodges' retort, standing up. Enough was enough. "Hodges, you work on getting that paperwork back."

"Yeah, go cry in the locker room," Hodges muttered under his breath, but not soft enough so that Greg and Catherine didn't hear him.

"Hodges! That's enough! You both are being unprofessional, and I'm not going to deal with it! I'm your supervisor, and you will treat me with respect, whether you like it or not!" Catherine cut him off, her face red with anger. "If you try me anymore, I will suspend you!"

Hodges stared at her, a frown on his face. "You're not Grissom."

Catherine stared at him, openmouthed. She wasn't sure what to say to that. She wasn't Grissom, nor had she ever wanted to be in the position of having to fill his shoes. However…this is what Ecklie had dealt her. She closed her mouth, contemplating what to say. Before she could respond, though, Greg spoke up.

"You know what, Hodges, you're an asshole," Greg turned as the words flew from his lips, his palms shoving Hodges square in the chest.

Hodges staggered back for a second before shocking both Catherine and Greg by swinging his fist at Greg's face. With a thud, his fist hit Greg's jaw, sending the young CSI staggering.

With a cry of anger, mixed with Catherine's protests, Greg tacked Hodges around the waist, dropping the two of them to the ground. "Hey! Stop it!" Catherine yelled, rushing around the side of her desk. "I need a little help in here!" Catherine bellowed down the hallway before attempting to put a restraining hand on Hodges shoulder, who had somehow mounted Greg and was preparing to strike him a second time in the face.

If he connected, Catherine wasn't sure. Hodges' elbow swung upward, and before Catherine even had a chance to react, his elbow connected under her eye, sending the CSI supervisor backwards, the back of her head connecting with the ledge of her desk.

Catherine Willows was out cold before she even hit the floor.

~/~

"_Catherine…Catherine? I think she's coming to. Cath? Can you hear me?"_

Catherine slowly forced her eyes open, vaguely aware of the fact that Doc Robbins was talking to her, trying to bring her out of her unconscious state. She shoved away the hand that was holding smelling salts under her nose. _Good Lord that crap was horrible…_

"What…" she managed to croak out, bringing a hand up to her face, her hand blindly touching the hot area under her right eye, her fingers slick with what she knew without even looking at her fingers as blood. She lifted her head slightly, feeling the lump that was forming at the base of her skull. Catherine moaned slightly, closing her eyes to stop the room from spinning, mumbling, "What happened?"

"You were elbowed in the face by Hodges," Nick started to tell her, only to stop talking when Catherine's eyes shot open.

"Hodges! Gregory!" She sat up, instantly regretting the fast movements when she almost passed out at the movement.

"Catherine, you need to stay down for a minute," Doc Robbins tried to reason with the senior CSI, only to flinch slightly when she shook off his hand, glaring up at him as she used her desk to haul herself up.

Willing her knees to cooperate and her dinner to stay in her stomach, she swayed slightly as she looked among the crowd in her office. "Where the hell are Sanders and Hodges?!" she all but roared, wincing at the loud noise. She braced herself using her desk, taking a deep breath as she blearily looked around the room.

"Cath, relax," Nick said calmly, putting his hands on Catherine's shoulders. "Ecklie has already taken care of it."

"I don't want Ecklie to take care of it! I want suspended them both!" she slurred slightly, realizing what she said before backtracking: "I want both of them suspended!"

"They've both been suspended, Cath," Nick said softly, placing his hands on Catherine's shoulders and guiding her to her seat. "And you need to get to a hospital."

"I'm fine," Catherine protested, leaning her head against her hand, wincing at both the pressure on what was presumably either a deep cut or a broken nose. "I don't need to go to the hospital."

"Catherine, you were out for a good five minutes. I think it's best if you go to the hospital, then home," Doc Robbins attempted to reason with her, only to have Catherine effectively shake her head no.

"I'm fine. In fact, I need all of you out of my office right now!" Catherine all but growled. It took a few moments of silence, but after a few seconds, the group that had crowded in her office dispersed except for Nick.

"Cath…" he trailed off, not sure of what to say.

"Nicky, I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine," Catherine cut him off.

Nick stared at his boss for a long moment, not sure of what to say. Finally, he just stated, "You may want to wash your face, cause no one's gonna believe that." With that, he turned around and walked out of her office.

Catherine sighed, bracing her head against her hand for several moments, trying to will the nausea away. Finally, she pushed her chair back and headed to the ladies room, ignoring both the shocked stares and sympathetic looks from her colleagues. She shoved the door open, relieved to see that it was empty. Walking over to the mirror, Catherine hesitantly looked into it, almost afraid of what she would see.

Catherine nearly gasped when she saw her face. The area above and below her right eye was already a dark purple, the color fading away slightly at the outside corner of her eye. There was a cut that extended down the inside corner of her eye to the base of her nose, what she figured was the source of the blood. It seemed to have stopped bleeding, though, thankfully. _Hodges must have gotten a direct hit in,_ Catherine thought wryly, briefly noting to herself that maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to get in between two fighting male coworkers. _Too late for that one, Willows,_ she told herself.

With a curse, Catherine turned on the cold water, rolling some paper towels out into her hand and dispensing some soap onto the paper towel. It wasn't the most effective method of cleaning up her face, but it would have to do for now. She wasn't about to leave work to go to the emergency room for a black eye.

She ran the water over the paper towel, gingerly wiping away at the blood that was on her face. Catherine was relieved to see that the cut wasn't that deep and wouldn't require stitches or even a band aid. Not that she would even wear one. Catherine was always the type of person who would wear her injuries proud, refusing to show the pain that she was in. After all, the cut along her nose was no deeper than when she had been attacked by that suspect years ago while she was investigating the home invasion…

Of course, back then, she had Warrick. Catherine sighed slightly as she remembered his panicked cry of her name, the contact of his hand on her back as he checked to make sure she was okay as she lay on the ground covered in the victim's blood, his irate voice as he grilled the first officer on the scene, his arms around her after David had upset her in autopsy… She even had Grissom then. She remembered how concerned he was when he had heard she had been attacked, rushing to her in the locker room to make sure that she was okay, his fingers trailing over the cut at the top of her head…

But now, Warrick was dead, and Grissom was off somewhere doing God only knew what, at some bug convention, probably, and she was all alone. She was at the peak of her career, the supervisor for the grave shift of crime scene investigators. Yet she never felt more alone. Nick, Riley, and Greg all seemed to have their own little group, Hodges and Wendy seemed chummier than ever, Langston was…well, he was another story. Catherine had yet to be able to understand the enigmatic man, but even if she were to break the spell around him she was almost positive that he wouldn't be joining her for drinks or breakfasts…Hell, it even seemed that Lindsey was leaving her, or would be leaving her soon. Her daughter was currently filling out applications for college, as far away as Delaware. _Delaware? What that hell is even in Delaware?_ Catherine mused.

She looked in the mirror, sighing slightly as she cleaned the last bit of blood away from her face. She glanced in the mirror as the door opened, bemused when she saw Nick standing there, an ice pack wrapped in a towel in his left hand.

"Ladies room, Nicky," Catherine said with a slight smile as she saw him look around hesitantly before proceeding into the room.

Nick bit back a reply as he crossed the small area to Catherine, pressing the ice pack into her hand. "Does it look better?" she asked him, tilting her face to him.

"Not really," Nick replied honestly, guiding her hand up so that she could place the ice on her face. "You look like you've gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson."

"I feel like it, too," Catherine sighed. "I hope I have some Tylenol in my purse."

Nick nodded, glancing at his watch. "Look, Cath…we only have a few more hours of shift left. It's been pretty slow, and quite frankly, it's been a bad night for you. Why don't you go home, catch a couple extra hours of sleep, and come back tomorrow night? We're probably gonna be short for a week while Hodges and Greggo are out on suspension, so you'll need all your rest while you can get it," Nicky said. Seeing the Catherine was actually contemplating what he was saying, he added, "I'll cover for you, and I promise to call you if anything major breaks within the rest of the shift."

Catherine pondered this for a minute, then nodded slowly. "Sure, Nicky. It'll be nice to see Lindsey before she leaves for school," Catherine finally replied.

"Okay, good," Nick said, guiding his supervisor to the door, somewhat shocked that she had actually agreed to his suggestion.

"Thanks, Nicky," Catherine said softly, reaching up to kiss his cheek before pushing open the door and heading to her office to retrieve her stuff before leaving the place that she somehow was at more than her actual home.

~/~

Catherine pushed open the door to her house as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake Lindsey if she could help it. However, she was shocked to see her daughter sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee as she read the newspaper.

Instinctively, Catherine lowered her sunglasses, shutting the door. "You're up early…" Catherine noted to her daughter. She had hoped that she would be able to get to sleep before her daughter was up, knowing that Lindsey wouldn't go into her room, and that as a result Lindsey wouldn't see her black eye and ask questions.

"Yeah. I usually get up at this time," Lindsey told her mother, not looking up from the article she was reading. Catherine felt a stab of guilt; even though her daughter didn't mean any malice, she still felt horrible about the fact she wasn't there for her daughter a lot of the times. The fact that she didn't even know what time her daughter got up for school said a lot about her career. "What are you doing home early?" Lindsey asked her mom, finally looking up from the paper. "And why are you wearing sunglasses? It's still dark out."

"I uh…" Catherine trailed off lamely, suddenly realizing how silly she must have looked. With a sigh, she put her sunglasses on top of her head, ignoring her daughter's shocked look. "I had a little incident at work," Catherine finished, running a hand through her hair.

"What happened?" Lindsey asked, standing up from her chair and walking over to her mother. Even though she was about thirty years younger than her mother, she almost towered over her. "It looks like someone decked you!"

Catherine flinched as her daughter brought her hand up to her mom's face, allowing Lindsey to tilt her face to the light. "It doesn't hurt that much," Catherine lied.

"Bull, mom," Lindsey said, turning from her mother and walking to the cabinet. Before the elder Willows could chastise her daughter on her language, Lindsey continued, "How about you go take a shower, and by the time you come out, I'll have breakfast ready for you? Then, you can go to sleep."

While food was the last thing Catherine wanted, she wasn't in the mood to argue with her daughter. Besides, this was a very rare situation that she would actually get to spend time with her daughter before she went to school. Often times, they simply crossed paths as Catherine was stumbling in the door after a long shift, and that was when she was even off on time and wasn't trying to catch up on some paperwork or understand some piece of evidence that a case presented her. With a small smile, Catherine nodded, uttering a small, "Sure, honey." She was shocked when Lindsey closed the distance between the two of them, hugging her mother gently.

Catherine wrapped her arms around Lindsey, holding her daughter close. "I love you, mom," Lindsey said softly. "I know I don't say it often, but I do."

"I love you too, sweetheart," Catherine replied before letting go of Lindsey. "Give me about fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Okay, mom," Lindsey replied, turning back to the cabinets. She waited until she heard her mom turn on the water, then grabbed her mom's phone out of her purse. She flipped through the phonebook until she found the name she was looking for. Listening to make sure that her mom was in the shower, she pressed dial, listening to the phone ring until a sleepy voice answered.

"Hello? It's Lindsey…"

~/~

Several hours later, Catherine wasn't sure what awoke her, but someone was in the room with her. Panic threatened to overcome her, but she refused to let it. She lay on her side, eyes shut as if she was still asleep, her hand closest to the alarm clock on her nightstand. Wishing her gun was on her nightstand and not locked in the cabinet downstairs, her fingers itched to reach over and grab it, launching it at the invader's head…

Catherine couldn't help the shriek that emitted from her throat when a hand settled on her shoulder. Her eyes shot open and she reached for the alarm clock, only to have her panic rise when the intruders hands settled on her forearms, restraining her movements.

"No, please, don't hurt me!" Catherine pleaded, struggling against the hands.

"Cath, calm down!" the intruder said softly. "It's-"

Before he had a chance to finish, Catherine ripped her arm from his grasp, bringing her closed fist up toward his head. However, before she could connect, he caught her fist. "Cath! It's me!"

The familiar voice, the familiar scent finally broke Catherine out of her sleep induced struggle. "Gil?" she asked hoarsely.

"It's me, Cath," Gil Grissom said softly, keeping his hands on her arms. "It's okay. It's just me."

"What…" Catherine swallowed, her heart still pounding. "What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?!" she finally managed to ask, bringing her blanket up to her chest, suddenly self conscious. Granted, in the past, Gil had seen her in much less than the ribbed tank top and boxer shorts that she had chosen for sleep, but there was something…awkward about the whole situation.

"I…uh, Lindsey called me earlier. She told me that you had an accident, and I was…I was worried," Gil stammered, taking in her appearance as he slowly let go of her arms and sat on the edge of her bed . "Jesus, Cath…what the hell happened?" he asked, noting her black eye and cut along the side of her nose.

Catherine sighed, bringing a hand up to touch the swollen area on her face. "Let's just say that I got caught on the wrong end of Hodges' elbow." Seeing Gil's confused look, she elaborated, "Things have been a little tense between Greggo and Hodges. It finally came to a head today, and before I knew what had happened, the two were trading punches on the floor of your…well, my office. I tried to break it up, and Hodges elbowed me in the face. It was an accident, plain and simple."

"Some accident, Cath," Gil said softly, resisting the urge to trace his fingers along the bruised area of her face. "They shouldn't have been fighting in the first place. It's highly unprofessional. Please tell me that they were suspended."

"Yeah, they were," Catherine replied. "I don't know for how long, though."

"What do you mean?" Gil asked. "You should have been the one who handed out the suspension."

"I uh…" Catherine trailed off, unsure of how to continue, knowing that Gil wasn't going to be happy with what she disclosed next. "I kind of hit my head on my desk after I was hit, and I was out of it for a few minutes."

Gil closed his eyes briefly, reminding himself that Catherine was a grown woman, and that she was capable of taking care of herself. While it wasn't the brightest idea that she didn't get her head checked out after being knocked out, it was her choice. He opened his eyes, not surprised to see that Catherine's clear blue eyes immediately met his. "Cath…"

"I had Doc Robbins check out my pupils before I left. He said that everything looked normal, and that if I felt dizzy or nauseous or my head hurt, to go to the emergency room. I feel fine," Catherine told Grissom before he could lecture his former colleague.

"You know that symptoms…" he paused, seeing the fire in Catherine's eyes. Gil had been on the receiving end of the Willows temper before, and it wasn't pretty. With a sigh, he finished, "You know that symptoms can pop up weeks down the road, so just be careful, and let me know if you need help?"

Catherine sighed, nodding at Gil's request. She hated being coddled…she tried to tell herself that Gil was just worried. Effectively changing the subjected, she rolled on her back, meeting Grissom's concerned eyes. "So…" she trailed off. "How have you been?"

It was a simple question. Yet Gil still blinked, unsure of how to answer. _She shouldn't have to ask_, he told himself. _She should know this already…_ "I…I've been busy," he finally admitted. "I'm sorry I haven't called you…"

Catherine brushed off his answer with a slight shrug. "It's okay," she told him, yawning as she looked at the clock. 9:12 AM. She had barely been asleep when Grissom had showed up. "I know you've been busy," she finished after her yawn.

"As have you," Grissom answered. "You look exhausted."

"I'm okay…" Catherine answered. "I guess getting knocked upside the head makes you tired."

"I suppose," Gil responded, his finger tracing on her bedspread. An awkward silence followed, and he added, "Look, I'm sorry I came in uninvited. Lindsey had called me, and I was worried about you, so I just wanted to check on you."

"It's okay, Gil. Just make some noise next time?"

Gil chuckled, putting his hands on his knees as he stood up and bent over, shocking them both when he kissed Catherine's forehead chastely. "I'll let you get back to sleep, okay," he said softly.

Catherine nodded slowly, watching as he stood, moving to leave the room. "Gil," she suddenly called, reaching her hand out to stop him. She grasped his hand, swallowing slightly as his eyes traveled from their enclosed hands to her face, searching her eyes. Catherine took a deep breath before speaking again. "Will you stay with me?" she asked softly, shyly, gesturing to the bed with her free hand. "I…I don't want to be alone." _I don't want you to leave._

Grissom blinked at her question. It was a soft plea, so…vulnerable. If there was anything that Catherine Willows was not, it was vulnerable. He wanted to say yes, he wanted to curl up next to her and hold her tightly as he kissed her injured face. But still…that wasn't him. Gil was more of a pat-you-on-the-arm-and-say-all-will-be-okay type of man. "I…I don't know if that would be the best idea, Cat," he finally replied.

Catherine tried not to show the hurt in her eyes as she stared up at Gil. "Please, Gil," she finally pleaded. "I need someone…I need you," she admitted.

Grissom paled slightly at her statement, taking a step closer to the bed. Seeing Catherine's hopeful eyes trained on him, he finally relented, walking around to the other side of her bed. Stripping off his shoes and shirt, he crawled under the covers, moving closer to one of his best friends and former colleague. Hesitantly, he snuggled against Catherine, freezing slightly when she rolled over. She moved against his chest, curling up perfectly. Gil carefully wrapped his arm around her waist, feeling her reciprocate the move.

"Is this okay?" Catherine asked softly, feeling him relaxing slightly.

"It's fine, Cath," Gil answered. "Are you comfortable?"

"I'm fine now," she replied, tucking her head against his shoulder. She fell asleep almost immediately, sighing contentedly in her sleep.

But for her companion, sleep was a long time coming, even as he watched her peaceful face, free of nightmares and dreams, and stroked her back in comfort.

~/~

Finished.


	2. Breaking

Ok, so, here's the deal...I hated the ending to One to Go, as a Grillows shipper, and as a CSI fan. I decided to take that annoyance out on poor Gil. lol So, I decided to play with my story and make it a small series. Not sure how long yet, but we'll just go with it. In this story, Ecklie isn't the Undersheriff.

Disclaimer in chapter 1.

Feedback is appreciated by not begged for. It's not in my character.

~/~

It wasn't a feeling she was used to. That's for sure. Especially since….Chris, she supposed? Had it really been that long since Catherine Willows had shared her bed with a man? She wanted to laugh at the situation…

However, it was actually somewhat pathetic.

So, instead of laughing at her lack of ability to get a decent man, she settled for sighing contentedly. Catherine snuggled closer to the warm male chest that was pressed against her, tightening her arms around his waist, taking note in the way her legs were tangled in his.

It was a perfect feeling. They hadn't had sex, but this intimate proximity was enough to make Catherine feel closer to Gil then she ever had. They had never shared the same bed, even the nights when she went crawling to Gil after Eddie had beat her up, and this just felt so…perfect.

"You sleep okay?"

Catherine jumped slightly as she was torn from her thoughts, not even realizing until he spoke that Gil was awake. She looked up, meeting his gaze as he looked down at strawberry blonde, their faces inches apart. "I…yeah, better than I have in awhile," she admitted. "What time is it?"

"It's almost 12:30," Gil replied.

Catherine sighed, following that up with a small yawn. Even though she had slept well, she still wasn't getting enough sleep. Ever since Gil had left…well before that, even, she had been averaging four or five hours of sleep, if she was lucky. To say that her horrible sleeping patterns were taking a toll on her was an understatement.

"Damn," Catherine finally uttered. "I don't get how I can have a horrible shift, get knocked upside the head, and still not be able to sleep."

"Have you tried sleeping pills?" Gil asked.

Catherine sighed again, her hand absently coming up to stroke Gil's chest as she spoke. Gil stiffened slightly at the contact, but Catherine didn't notice as she said, "I have, but I don't like the groggy feeling I get when I get called into a case in the middle of the night."

"That's…understandable," Gil choked out, trying to ignore his body's response to her ministrations.

Catherine finally realized what she was doing, a tiny grin playing against her lips as she met Grissom's gaze. However, there was something weird about the look in his eyes. He looked somewhat aroused, yet…guilty, perhaps?

"Sorry, Gil," Catherine told him, though her tone betrayed her apologies. She moved her hand and settled it on his hip. "I didn't realize what I was doing."

"It's fine, Cath," he answered, hoping that his voice wouldn't betray him. Obviously, Catherine didn't know that he had gone back to Sara, that they were now an item again. _How could she know, Gil, you haven't told her anything! _His mind screamed at him.

"What's wrong, Gil?" Catherine purred, running her bare foot up and down his leg, her grin widening when she felt his body respond positively. On instinct, Catherine gently pressed her lips against Gil's, seeing his eyes widen before they fluttered closed, her former boss pressing his lips against hers in a chaste kiss. Catherine closed her eyes, snuggling even closer to Gil as she pulled his body to hers, enjoying the feel of his lips on hers. Grissom's hand reached over to tangle in her hair, fingers running through the soft locks.

_This is so wrong._

With a moan, he gently shoved the blonde away, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. "Cath. I…I can't do this," Gil sighed, detangling himself from her arms. Catherine lay there, a chill sweeping over her as his warm body left her. However, she sat up, looking up at Gil as she licked her swollen lips.

"What…what can't you do, Gil?" she asked, the hurt evident in her silky voice. It had been a risk, she knew it, to kiss her friend of over two decades, but it was one that she was willing to take. However, apparently it wasn't one that Gil wanted to take…

And that hurt.

"I can't sleep in the same bed as another woman…the same bed as you…without feeling like I'm…like I'm betraying her! And to kiss you…to allow you to kiss me…I'm sorry Catherine," Gil stammered, pulling on his pants and buttoning them up.

"You can't feel like you're betraying her?" Catherine repeated, still staring up at Gil from her spot on the bed. "What are you talking about Gil?!"

Gil stared at Catherine, guilt washing over his features. "I…I'm back with Sara," he finally admitted.

Catherine blinked, his words processing. She knew of their brief break up, that Sara had left Gil broken in pieces. However…this was the last thing that she expected. "You…you're back with her?' she whispered.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Gil hastily said, buttoning up his shirt.

"Since when?!" Gil stared at Catherine, as if trying to comprehend what she asked. Seeing his confused look, Catherine reiterated, "When did you go back to her?"

Gil swallowed, running a hand across his jaw. "When I left CSI, when I went to Costa Rica…I-I found her," Gil replied honestly. "I'm sorry, Cat. I should have told y-"

"Gil…we just slept together and the only thing that you can say is that you're sorry?" Catherine exploded, finally shoving the covers off of her bare legs as she stood up, facing him across the bed.

"We did not sleep together, Catherine!" Gil replied, angry at her for her reaction.

Catherine scoffed, glaring at Gil. "We shared a bed, Grissom!"

"For a little nap! Don't make me feel guilty for something that you made me do!" Gil snapped at her.

"Made you?!" Catherine shot back. "You could have told me no! That you didn't want to, or maybe you could have told me that you're back with Sara!"

"My personal life is none of your business, Catherine!" Gil replied, pointing a shaky finger across the bed at her.

"It's never been my business, has it Gil? You keep yourself holed up in your townhouse, not letting anyone in. Yet when it comes to me, you have to know every little detail. You judge me, you make me feel as if I am a horrible person!"

Gil opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by the ringing of Catherine's cell phone. She glared at the offending piece of technology, snatching it up from her nightstand when she saw that it was Ecklie calling.

"Yeah, Willows," she answered, her tone making Gil want to cringe slightly. She was beyond pissed.

Then again, so was he.

He watched as Catherine listened intently, closing her eyes briefly. "That's fine, sir…I'm okay, just a little banged up. I feel fine." Silence filled the room as Catherine briefly allowed Ecklie to talk. "It's honestly nothing that some makeup won't cover. I'll be in as soon as possible," she told the man. _Yet another double,_ she silently grumbled as she closed her phone and looked across the room at Grissom.

"Get out," she ground out, pointing to the door. "And lock the door on your way out, and make sure that you lose my key. I don't want to see you here again."

Gil blinked, his anger evaporating. "Catherine…I'm sorry. I can't help that I ended back with Sara. I…I love her, and nothing will change that."

Catherine sniffled slightly, trying to ignore the tears that were welling in her eyes. "That's great, Gil. It doesn't help that I care for you, that I always will."

"I want to marry her."

Catherine stood stock still, staring at Gil as he met her ocean blue eyes. If he had physically punched her in the stomach, she wouldn't have been more gutted.

She swallowed slightly, blinking as she closed her mouth. Catherine shook her head slightly, turning her back so that he wouldn't see the tears leaking out of her eyes. "Gil…just get out," she finally managed.

"It doesn't change how I feel about you Catherine," Gil softly stated. "I still care about you as a friend, and will always be here for you."

Without a reply, Catherine walked to the bathroom, shutting the door carefully.

_So much for sleep._

~/~

Catherine sighed as she walked into her office, noting that Nick, Riley, and Ray all stopped talking the second she walked in; well, Nick and Riley stopped talking, and Ray simply stood there. Catherine wanted to comment on the way their eyes immediately found the ground, rather than them looking at her face. She didn't blame them though. It WAS nasty looking. The bruise on her face was stark against her soft skin. She had planned to do a makeup job on her face to at least try to cut back on some of the bruise, but in the time that elapsed between her kicking Grissom out of her house…her life…and emerging from the bathroom, Ecklie had left two text messages and a voicemail asking her first where she was, then when she might be in, and finally how far away from the lab she was. Apparently he had an "important" meeting, which was much more important then Catherine making herself presentable, much less her getting an adequate amount of sleep. Granted, she wasn't going to be going back to sleep after her big blow up with Gil, but still, the courtesy of allowing her to start her shift when she was supposed to versus ten hours earlier would have been nice.

"All right, guys," Catherine spoke up, drawing herself out of her thoughts when she realized there was an awkward silence in the room. "We're shorthanded tonight, so we're gonna have to go our separate ways for the night. Riley, you have a break and enter," she paused, handing out the slip to Riley, before handing a paper to Nick. "Nicky, you have an arson, and Ray, you're with me on a dead body found in the desert."

Quietly, Nick and Riley took their assignments, leaving the office with a brief goodbye each. Catherine glanced at Ray, seeing the older man's wariness as he pondered what to say. "Grab your kit, Ray, and we'll get going in a couple of seconds. I'll meet you by my truck?" she suggested.

"Okay, Catherine," Ray answered, turning to leave. "And for the record?" Waiting to make sure that Catherine was looking at him, he brushed his fingers against his own face and said, "That looks cool. It kinda says 'Don't mess with me'," Ray told his boss.

Catherine watched after him, smiling slightly at the enigmatic man's words. "Hmm," she pondered softly. She laughed at herself, shaking her head as she walked to her desk, briefly flipping through her messages that the front desk had taken for her. One from Lindsey asking her if she could spend the night at a friend's, something that Catherine had consented to already. There was one from the D.A. about possibly setting up an appointment to go over some evidence, followed by one from Ecklie thanking her for coming in early, and then one from the mother of an accident victim asking her whether she had any new information about the car crash that had taken the life of her seventeen year old.

Catherine scowled, however, when she came across the fifth one. _Gil _was under the name, followed by the statement _I'm sorry._ Crumpling that message, she tossed it in the trashcan before setting the other ones on her desk. She'd have to call back the D.A. and mother back tomorrow before she went to bed, assuming that Ecklie didn't want her to pull a triple.

Grabbing her kit, camera, and keys, Catherine exited her office, making sure that the door was locked behind her. She made her way to the parking lot, seeing Ray standing next to the truck, his back to her, staring out into the parking lot, deep in thought. Catherine opened her mouth to see if he wanted to drive when Ray spoke before her.

"You want to drive?"

Catherine closed her mouth, slightly taken aback and wondering how he knew that she was there. "Uh, yeah, that's fine," she finally answered, unlocking the car with the keyless device in her hand. "Let's get going."

~/~

A few hours later, Catherine was back in her office, staring blankly at her laptop as the two hundred – no, make that two hundred and eight – pictures she had taken at the crime scene uploaded to the device. She yawned slightly, sipping her coffee as she glanced at her watch. Only a couple more hours until she would hopefully be able to catch some sleep. Granted, she could…or rather…should just leave Nick in charge, but she hated to do that two nights in a row. She was the supervisor, after all, and Catherine felt she had to set a standard for the crime scene investigators that she was assigned to look over. Not only that, but this new case seemed like it would be pretty easy to solve, at least based on a set of fingerprints they had found at the scene.

Her computer chimed, letting her know that the pictures were finished uploading. She flipped through them quickly, making sure that they were saved on her backup drive. Catherine yawned again, standing up and walking out of her office to the lab, finding Ray where she expected him: watching Mandy carefully as she ran the prints through the system.

Wordlessly, she joined the pair, watching as a match was made to a print and a man's face popped up on the screen.

"James Cena," Ray read aloud, seeing the sullen look on the criminal's face in the picture.

"Arrested for breaking and entering, armed robbery, and for rape in the second degree," Catherine read his rap sheet. "Seems like a good enough reason to get him to come into talk. I'll talk to Brass about getting a warrant." Seeing the excited look on Ray's face, Catherine smiled slightly despite her exhaustion. "Don't celebrate yet, Ray," she told him. "We still need to actually connect him to the crime, and figure why his fingerprint was on our victim's wallet."

"It's not that, Catherine," Ray answered. "I'm just looking forward to the interrogation itself." Seeing the confused look on his bosses' face, he reiterated, "I haven't sat in on an interrogation yet."

"Ah," Catherine answered. "Well, give it an hour or so and we'll get the show on the road hopefully."

~/~

Nearly two hours later, James Cena was sitting in interrogation, a scowl on his face as he looked across the table at Catherine, Ray, and Brass. The man was tall, well built, and very handsome. He had boyish features that would have drawn Catherine to him easily if he wasn't the suspect in a murder case. His blue eyes were cloudy when he finally spoke. "Care to tell me what was so fuckin' important that you had to wake me up and bring me in at seven AM?" the man asked, glaring at each person in the room briefly, his gaze lingering over Catherine for too long for her liking. She brushed it off, however, and spoke.

"Well, Mr. Cena, it appears that your fingerprint was found on the wallet of a woman that was found dead in the desert last night," Catherine replied, tossing a set of the crime scene photos down in front of Cena casually. "Care to explain that?"

Cena smirked as he stared back at Catherine, not even glancing down at the photos. "Looks like someone did a number on you, lady. Who'd you piss off?" he asked. "Boyfriend? Husband? Lesbian lover?"

Catherine raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as she sized the man up in front of her. "You think that someone did a number on me?" she asked, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear casually.

"Oh, yeah…" Cena answered. ""You got fucked up, honey."

"You should see the guy." Catherine wanted to laugh at the brief look of shock that crossed his face, but before he could brush it off, she stated, "The wallet?"

"I was at a bar. Some lady dropped her wallet in front of me, and I picked it up for her," Cena explained. "It must have been her."

"It would help if you actually looked at the photo, Mr. Cena," Catherine told him.

"Don't need to. That's the only wallet I've picked up…besides my own…in the last two weeks."

"See, that's interesting, Mr. Cena," Catherine answered smoothly, not breaking eye contact as Brass and Ray let her verbally spar with the man. She leaned forward, staring at the man. "If that were true, then you would have had a full set of prints on the wallet. Not just one single, perfect print. Care to explain that?"

Cena stared back at Catherine. Ray looked between the two, fascinated as his boss worked to bring down the suspect. Cena finally spoke, anger in his voice as he talked. "See, that's the problem with you bitches," he said, leaning back.

"There's no need-" Brass started to say, only to stop his reprimand as Catherine lightly put a hand on his arm, making sure to keep her steely gaze on the suspect in front of them. Brass backed off, knowing that Catherine had control of the interrogation at the moment.

"What bitches?" Catherine challenged him. "Bitches like me? Or bitches like Nina James, who you raped? Or bitches like Jane Smelders, who you brutally murdered?!" With that, she held up a picture of the deceased, shoving it into Cena's face.

"I paid my time for Nina!" Cena yelled, standing up and leaning across the table, swiping her hand out of his face, getting into Catherine's face. She refused to back off, even as she felt Brass and Ray tense beside her. She knew that this was dangerous, that she was provoking a criminal, and that it might not end well. He could take a swipe at her, or attack her across the table, but Catherine really didn't care. She was pissed.

She was pissed at this man across the table from her; she was pissed at Ecklie for putting her in a position that left her with hardly any sleep at a double; she was pissed at Grissom.

She was just pissed.

Catherine stood up as well, her chair scraping loudly across the floor of the small room, her face inches from his. "We have you cold, Cena!" Catherine said. "This is a murder charge. You can't weasel your way out of this one!"

"There's nothing to weasel out of," Cena said through gritted teeth. "I did not murder that woman. I've never even seen her before in my life!"

Catherine smirked, shaking her head. "See, that's where you're full of it," she told him. "Cause a minute ago, you were picking up her wallet from the ground. So which is it? You picked up her wallet, you've never seen her…" Catherine trailed off, lowering her voice before finishing. "Or you murdered her."

"I DID NOT MURDER HER!" Cena roared, flipping over the table. It was only quick instincts that Ray and Brass shot back from their seats at the same time as Catherine slid back, the edge of the heavy table nearly landing on her foot. It seemed like slow motion as Cena leapt over the table, intent on getting to Catherine, but Ray and Brass each grabbed an arm, hauling him away and out the door.

"YOU BITCH! I'LL GET YOU, YOU BITCH!" Catherine could hear him yelling. She stood in the interrogation room, frozen, staring at the uprooted table as she listened to Cena spouting off threats down the hallway. Blood was rushing to her head.

She drew in a shaky breath, leaning over and putting her hands on the edge of the table.

She was gonna be sick.

"What the hell was that all about?!" Catherine closed her eyes as Brass came into the interrogation room, his hand gripping her upper arm, turning her so that she looked at him, a blank gaze on her face as she slowly opened her eyes. "Do you have a death wish, Willows!? What were you thinking? WERE you even thinking?"

"I…" Catherine trailed off, her blue eyes meeting the angered gaze of Jim Brass. The adrenaline that had coursed through her veins just seconds before long gone as she sagged slightly and offered a feeble apology. "I'm sorry…"

"You're sorry? Catherine, you broke every department rule and regulation in the book back there! You're lucky to be alive right now!" Brass dressed her down, his temper through the roof as he refused to notice her distress.

"Don't you think I know that, Jim?!" Catherine finally yelled back, her voice cracking slightly. "I'm sorry, what more do you want me to say!"

Her raised voice seemed to snap Jim out of his anger. Seeing the darkened bruise on her face, the green tinge that come across her face, and the fact she was breathing a little harder than usual…something woke up in him. He loosened his grip on her arm guiltily, briefly wondering and praying that he didn't leave any more bruises on her fair skin.

"Catherine…you need a vacation. You've been working your ass off since Gil left. You have plenty of vacation on the books; why don't you take some time off, do something? You're obviously stressed and exhausted," Jim said softly.

"What am I supposed to do, Jim? I have no one...nothing to go to," Catherine bit back the tears that had been threatening to fall all day as she looked at Jim. He stared back, meeting her gaze. "Look…I'm sorry. I'm stressed and angry, and I took it out on the suspect because he was the next closest thing to my anger. I'm sorry, and it won't happen again."

With that, Catherine turned to leave, not even waiting for Jim's response. However, before she could make it out the door, she saw a figure standing there.

The last person she wanted to see.

Gil.

~/~

End Part 2


	3. Breakfast

Hey, thanks for all the reviews! It's people like you that make me want to continue writing. I'm having fun with this story, even if it is an angst-o-meter for our dear Catherine. Please continue to read and review, as it means soooo much to me.

And here we go with chapter three!

~/~

It took all that Catherine Willows had not to snarl at the man standing in front of her in the doorway. So many emotions ran through her at once. The anger that had been coursing through her veins moments ago returned with a vengeance, and she wanted nothing more than to release an expletive filled tirade at Grissom…and to possibly throttle him. She wasn't one to condone violence, but at the moment the man in front of her wasn't Gil Grissom: friend of two decades; he was Gil Grissom: the enemy. Catherine felt hurt at the fact that Grissom had not only shared the same bed and allowed her to kiss him – and kissed her back, for that matter – when he knew that he was going to go back to Sara as soon as he left.

Catherine felt betrayed. He had confided so much in her that one night following the Layla Wells case, even more than usual, as they walked along the strip, talking about life and how Gil planned to 'up the ante.' Gil had told her that he and Sara were taking a break, and he wasn't sure where they were going from there.

But she supposed Costa Rica had changed that.

Blue met blue, and Catherine had a slight flashback to Howard Delhomme. This time, she was holding her intense gaze with Gil Grissom, not blinking or breaking eye contact, with Jim Brass taking Gil's role as he glanced between the pair, tension so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Jim opened his mouth to comment, to try to break some of that tension, when Catherine spoke.

"I have nothing to say to you," she growled, stalking past Gil in the doorway, not caring that her shoulder forcefully bumped his as she brushed past him and made her way to her office, the slam of the door echoing down the hallway.

Gil lifted his head to the ceiling, his eyes taking in the tile briefly before he closed them, attempting to relieve some of the tension out of his neck. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't surprised to see Brass looking back at him, an intuitive look on his face.

Brass wasn't sure what to say. Jokes seemed inappropriate at the moment, so he settled with a courteous, "Grissom, how are you?" followed by a firm handshake.

"I'm…I'm okay," Gil answered, his gaze flicking over his shoulder towards Catherine's office as he stepped into the interrogation room. "Yourself?"

"Same, same," Brass answered offhandedly, straightening his tie as he looked quizzically at Grissom. He wanted so badly to ask what was going on, but in the end, it really wasn't any of his business. Granted, it would probably help to explain Catherine's reckless behavior in interrogation and the anger that seemed to be coursing through her body, but…if Gil or Catherine were having a quarrel, then that was between them. It wasn't Brass' problem, or even his opinion, but Gil seemed to have messed up bad this time.

Gil cleared his throat softly, running a hand over his unshaven chin. "Look, I'm going to go…brave the elements and try to talk to Cath," Grissom told Brass.

"Should I send out a search party in an hour if we don't see you?" It was a lame joke, they both knew it, but Gil still was able to smile a little.

"That may not be a bad idea," he answered distractedly, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he awkwardly made his way to Catherine's office.

The door was still shut, a clear indication that she wanted to be left alone. If anyone at the crime lab learned anything within their first day working, it was that if the door to Catherine's office was closed, chances were that she was in a very bad mood. Any other time, whether she was busy, doing paperwork, or on an important phone call even, it was at least cracked open so that visitors could talk to her.

But that wasn't the case at the moment. Catherine wanted to be left alone, and the wood separating her from the rest of the crime lab was the clear indication.

Gil nearly turned and walked out of the lab, knowing that behind the door was five-foot-three inches of pissed off supervisor…anger that was directed specifically at him. However...Gil had a feeling that if he didn't at least attempt to smooth things over, then their friendship would be over for good. Catherine knew that he was in the building, and that he wasn't there on a social visit. Somehow, he figured that despite her lack of an invitation to come into her office, Gil would be the one held accountable for not making an effort to come and patch things over with her.

Before he could lose his nerve, Gil raised his hand and knocked softly on the door.

Catherine rolled her eyes as she heard the knock on the door, shuffling through her paperwork in order to try to have some sort of order to it before she went home to get some sleep…or at least trying to. She was exhausted after working the last eighteen hours, but her confrontation with Cena had left her mind working in overtime. She was almost positive that it would take her at least a couple hours to drift off, and even then it would be a restless sleep.

There was another knock, the same hesitant rapping that had filled her office moments before. Catherine knew who it was after ten years of working together. In fact, she knew who was at the door without even looking nine times out of ten simply based of the tapping on the frame.

She continued straightening her paperwork, choosing to ignore the man behind the threshold. Catherine closed her eyes briefly, wondering if it actually was the best choice to just ignore Grissom. It took a lot of guts to confront someone when they were furious, but…that was the point. She _was _pissed off. Nevertheless, Catherine knew that Grissom would be outside her door waiting for her until she left. So, instead of telling him to leave her alone, she left her messy paperwork, shut off her computer, grabbed her purse and keys, and walked out of her office.

Right into the startled form of Gil Grissom.

Gil jumped slightly as she nearly walked into him, his hands instinctively coming up to rest on her shoulders to stop her. Catherine visibly flinched, and Gil quickly released his hands from her upper arms, not wanting to provoke her anymore when he saw the look on her face. Catherine wanted to scream as his hands left her arms, pain filling her heart as the physical contact left her body. Her arms burned, longing for his touch even when she was so mad at him. She unconsciously brought her hands up to her biceps, wishing that his hands were still resting on her arms. Realizing that he was watching her, she continued her motions, crossing her arms as she glared at Gil.

"You'd better make this fast. I have been working the last eighteen hours and I'm beyond exhausted. What do you want?" Catherine's tone was a mixture of anger, hurt, and exhaustion, Gil realized. He wasn't sure what to say...so he settled for the obvious.

"I'm sorry."

Catherine had to resist the bitter laugh that was threatening to escape her lips. "That's it?" she asked. She turned and walked back into her office, beckoning Grissom to follow her. He shuffled behind her, wondering for a moment if it was safe. Grissom chastised himself for the thoughts, rendering them as ridiculous. It's not like she was going to stab him with her letter opener or something. He turned and quietly shut the door before turning his attention back to a furious Catherine.

Grissom wiped a hand across his sweaty forehead. Catherine wasn't making this easy. "What more do you want me to say, Cat?" he finally asked, his eyes not meeting hers. "I screwed up." He wanted to say that they should never have slept in the same bed, that they should have never kissed, but he just knew that that wouldn't go over well with Catherine. "I should have told you about Sara," he finally finished, looking up at her.

Catherine met his intense gaze, unsure of how to respond. She hated that he had deceived her, that he hadn't told her that he was back with Sara. However…seeing the sincere, pleading look on his face…she just couldn't say no to his apology.

For a moment, she thought back to the Wendy Barger case. She had taken a case personally where the wife had been cheating, saying the wrong things to the husband. All she could think of was Eddie, and when Gil had called her on it, she took it to the heart, insulting him over his lack of human contact outside of work. They had argued, she gave him the silent treatment, and it was only when Gil had proved her theory wrong that she would admit that she had overreacted.

"_I guess we better go talk to the husband. I mean, unless you think I'm going to compromise the integrity of the case again,"_ _Catherine had conceded, but she couldn't help but throw in the comment at the end. _

_Gil had just stared at her, contemplating his words before finally asking, "Look, could we have a truce?"_

"_I would love to," was her simple response. All was forgiven._

Realizing she hadn't said anything for several moments, she blinked and met Grissom's expectant gaze. Finally she sighed, shaking her head. "It's fine, Gil," Catherine told him.

_You're such a fucking liar, Willows._

Gil continued to hold her gaze, finally speaking up after a few long moments of silence. "I'm so sorry. I just…I wish there was something that I could do or say to make everything better again between us," Gil told Catherine, resisting the urge to bring a hand up to brush against her cheek, to cup her face in his hands.

_Leave Sara. Leave Sara and be with me. _Her mind was screaming it. Her lips itched to state what her brain…what her heart…was telling her.

But she couldn't.

Not without ruining the single best relationship – make that _friendship – _that she had in her life. Maybe in a past life, it would have worked. Maybe if she had made a move years ago…before Eddie, Chris, Sara, _everyone_, then it would have worked. However, she wasn't willing to risk a friendship with Gil over a broken heart.

"I know, Gil," she finally whispered, a tear slipping out from her eyes. "I do too. I don't…" she hesitated, taking a moment to compose herself, glad that they were in the confines of her office so that none of her coworkers were seeing her. Granted, she didn't really care about the office gossip mill, but there was something about her coworkers and colleagues seeing her in weakness that unnerved her. "I don't want to be mad at you. I'm sorry too," Catherine finally finished, wiping the tear away as it trailed down her cheek.

On instinct, Gil reached forward, pulling Catherine into his arms, holding her closely. For a moment, she tensed against his body before melting into his touch, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head against his chest. "It's okay, Catherine," he said softly. "I'll always be here for you. You know that."

"I know, Gil. And I'll be here for you." _Even if it means my heart will be broken._

They held each other for a few moments longer before simultaneously pulling apart, Gil's hands on her forearms. This time she didn't tense; Catherine allowed him to keep his hands there. "Why don't we grab breakfast, Cat?" Gil suggested.

"Gil, I'm exhausted, I'm not sure if I'd be good company," Catherine told him honestly. And it was true. She wasn't trying to weasel out of breakfast with him. She was just so tired after an emotional thirty-six hour period of running on very little to eat and sleep that included her getting whacked in the face due to an errant elbow and verbally sparring with a murder suspect.

"Come on, Cat," Gil said with a smile, that smile that he knew she wouldn't be able to say no to. "If I know you, you've worked the last eighteen hours and have maybe eaten some yogurt, perhaps a banana, and had about…oh, seven or eight cups of coffee?" he asked.

Catherine couldn't help but grin back at him. "It was yogurt, a pear, and only four cups of coffee," she corrected him, playfully sticking her nose in the air. She thought, then added, "Or maybe it was seven. I lost track."

Gil laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door. "Come on, let's get you some real food before I send you off to bed!"

~/~

An hour later, they were digging into their respective breakfasts: Catherine had herbal tea, scrambled egg beaters, and a fruit cup while Gil was having coffee, scrambled eggs, and wheat toast. They were laughing about the fact that Nick had actually ate a fly at breakfast a few weeks ago, having the same playful banter that they typically exchanged before they had their argument yesterday morning.

"So, uh…any wedding plans?" Catherine casually asked after a break in their banter. She hated to ask, but her curiosity had overridden her judgment at the moment.

"Nothing really," Gil told her honestly. "We just know that we want to do it within the year. Nothing too big, just our closest family and friends."

Catherine nodded, deep in thought. She knew that neither Gil nor Sara had any family, save for Gil's mother, or at least family that they cared about enough to invite to such an intimate event. Their friends were what made up the foundation of their love. "That sounds good, Gil. I'm…I'm happy for you too, I really am," she told him, briefly wondering if he sensed the hesitation in her voice. And she wasn't even sure why she was hesitating. She _was _happy for Gil and Sara. She just wished that she could have what Sara had. It actually reminded Catherine of a song a friend had passed off to her a few years ago that some independent artist had done. While the lyrics, beats, and tempos were horrible, the chorus of the song actually described exactly how Catherine was feeling at the moment. _I'll have…what she's having...gimme gimme gimme gimme what she's got! _was how it went. Or something like that. All she knew was that she envied Sara Sidle.

But she would never admit that out loud.

Gil opened his mouth to reply when Catherine's cell phone rang, cutting off his response. She glanced down at the screen. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Catherine moaned when she saw Ecklie's number on the display. For a second, she seriously considered ignoring the call. However, if she knew Ecklie, he'd keep calling her until she answered. "I'm sorry Gil," she said apologetically before flipping her phone open. _Maybe it's a good thing Gil convinced her to go to breakfast, because if Ecklie would have woken her forty-five minutes into her sleep, she would have been ready to castrate him. _"Willows," Catherine answered, hoping that her voice wasn't as whiny as she thought.

"Hey, Cath," Ecklie answered cheerfully, and she cringed inwardly at the use of her nickname. There were very few people who could get away with calling her Cath and it not grating at her nerves. Ecklie was NOT one of them. "What are you doing?"

"Getting ready to go to bed," Catherine answered shortly. "In case you forgot, I worked the last eighteen hours straight."

"Oh, too bad," Ecklie answered, his tone indicating that he was distracted and that he wasn't even really paying attention to her.

"Too bad?!" Catherine asked, indignant. "Thanks, Conrad, for that."

"I didn't mean it that way, Catherine," Ecklie snapped. "I just…something came up here, and I needed a favor."

"What?" Catherine asked warily, looking across the table at Grissom. He gave her a small smile, but in that smile, Catherine couldn't help but notice that he seemed somewhat relieved that it wasn't him getting called in anymore. _Lucky him…_

"You know the suspect James Cena, right?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Catherine bristled slightly at the name, her skin crawling at the mention of the bastard who had tried to attack her in interrogation earlier. _Oh, please, she hoped that he didn't lodge a complaint against her. The sissy. _"Yeah, what about him?" she questioned.

"I heard about your…altercation with him." _She was going to kill Brass. _"While I am highly disappointed in the fact that you were unable to control your anger in such an important interrogation, I must say that your tactics worked," Ecklie rambled on.

_JUST GET TO THE POINT_, she wanted to scream into the phone. However, she remained calm as she asked, "Did he file a complaint against me?"

"Quite the opposite. He's asking to talk to you. He says that there is something that he wants to tell you," Conrad answered. "So are you willing to fight off sleep for a couple more hours in order to get this guy behind bars?"

Catherine closed her eyes briefly, wondering if she was in over her head. She was exhausted, and her tired body was telling her to get some sleep, to make the bastard sit in a cold cell until she had fulfilled her body's need for sleep. Nevertheless, her heart was telling her that she needed to get justice for Jane Smelders, that she had worked longer hours than this before while staying sharp.

_Oh, yeah, it was on._

"Get him ready for interrogation. I want both of his hands handcuffed to the table. If he refuses, tell him that I'm not talking to him," Catherine finally stated. "I'll see you in about fifteen minutes."

Before Ecklie had a chance to respond, she hung up, glancing at Gil. "I'm sorry, I have to go back to work," she said apologetically, standing up and reaching into her purse for her wallet. "Something…came up." She wasn't about to explain the case to Gil, the fact that she had lost her cool with a suspect and nearly ended up hurt…again…thanks to her actions.

"It's okay, Cath," Gil answered softly, reaching into his wallet and tossing a few bills onto the table, enough to cover the bill and the tip. She opened her mouth to protest, only to have Gil wave her off. "My treat. You get me next time."

"Okay, Gil, thanks," Catherine answered, a fresh wave of adrenaline filling her as together they walked out of the diner that the original team…Gil, Catherine, Warrick, Nick, Sara, and Greg…had frequented so often.

"Promise me something?" Gil asked as they came to the parking lot.

"What's that?" Catherine asked, her thoughts on Cena and what was to come.

"Promise me that you'll sleep after you're done?" Gil told her seriously.

Catherine smiled up at him, instinctively kissing his cheek. "I promise," she answered before walking away to her truck.

Gil watched her leave, his hand unconsciously coming up to touch his cheek that Catherine's lips had brushed against.

He just hoped that Catherine would listen to him.

~/~

End Part 3/?


	4. Bastard

Here's chapter four, guys! Thanks for reading and reviewing! Also, thanks to my lovely beta Katy, and to Harper for her assistance in this chapter. If you're looking for an awesome CSI read, I truly recommend Se Salva. It's amazing work, folks.

Also, due to some recent events, I would like to change my disclaimer. While the characters, locations, and CSI franchise are property of Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS, the idea behind this story, dialogue, and script belong to me. Under no circumstances have I ever allowed someone to plagiarize my work, nor will I ever. If I EVER catch another person stealing my story or dialogue, they too will be reported to . It's called PLAGARISM, my friend, and it's illegal. And now onto Chapter four!

~/~

She stared in the mirror critically, her eyes collecting her reflection. She couldn't help but be concerned with the gaze staring back at her. The eyes told a story, or so she had been told, and her eyes were haunted…at least that's what she was thinking. There were shadows under her eyes, the area under her right eye bruised and swollen, looking worse than before if that was even possible, and the normally blue of her irises a cloudy gray rimmed with red from exhaustion.

Catherine ran her fingers through her hair, grimacing slightly at the feel of her hair. It was greasy after working in the Vegas heat the day before, and she had the urge to suddenly go wash her hair multiple times.

She had more important things to deal with at the moment, though.

Sighing, Catherine reached in her locker, grabbing a brush and running it through her hair, shakily pulling her long blonde hair into a ponytail. She felt somewhat better after eating a good breakfast, but she was close to being awake for twenty-four hours. The caffeine and adrenaline was quickly wearing off, and she wanted nothing more than to get this interview with Cena over with so she could go home and just go to bed. Quickly, she shed her shirt, folding it and pulling a clean one from her locker, tugging it over her head. She had already changed into a pair of jeans and running shoes. While she wanted to appear professional, she had felt gross in the same pants and heels from the previous day, and the jeans and sneakers were the only thing that she had. Catherine made a mental note to grab a spare pair of dress pants and shoes before heading to work tonight.

Catherine looked in her mirror again. She still looked exhausted, but at least she felt somewhat refreshed in clean clothes, and ready to face Cena again. This time, he wasn't going to be able to try to attack her, as he had agreed to be handcuffed to the table, which was the only way he was going to get Catherine alone in the interrogation room.

Slamming her locker shut, she clipped her ID badge to her jeans pocket, bent over and grabbed her case file from the bench next to her and exited the locker room, squaring her shoulders and determinedly making her way to the interrogation room, praying that she looked confident and not terrified like she feared she did. Brass met her gaze as he talked to Ecklie, making his way over to Catherine after excusing himself from the conversation.

"Cath…are you sure about this? He tried to attack you earlier," Brass said softly, his hand resting on her shoulder as he searched her expression for any indication that she didn't want to go through with this.

_Leave it to Brass to see right through her…_

Catherine looked up at Brass, emotion filling her eyes. She swallowed back a lump, wondering briefly if it was hormones or exhaustion creeping up to her. "I'm fine, Jim. Nothing is going to happen to me," she answered in what she hoped was a relaxed tone. Catherine glanced through the mirror, her anger rising slightly as she stared at the nonchalant man in the center of the room. Seeing the Captain's skeptical look, she smiled slightly. "It's alright, Jim. I'll be okay. I need the closure for Jane Smelders."

"Okay, Catherine. But if he even looks at you funny, we're coming in there," Brass warned.

"I'd expect nothing less," Catherine answered.

She smoothed her shirt, glancing at her reflection in the see through mirror. Catherine was as prepared as she could be at the moment, and with a calming breath, she opened the door.

Cena sat at the interrogation table, looking at her as the door opened. His lips held a tiny smirk as Catherine made her way into the room, the supervisor hoping that her strides exuded the confidence that she hoped that she was displaying at the moment. She didn't speak as she walked to the table, tossing her folder casually down and lifting the table slightly to see its weight in case Cena somehow managed to push it at her or something.

This didn't go unnoticed by Cena, as he smiled and looked over at Catherine. "Scared?" he asked, leaning back in his chair as far as he could given his hands were cuffed to the table.

Warily, Catherine's eyes involuntarily trailed to the handcuffs. Cena had huge wrists, and for a second she was almost scared that he could snap them off his wrists if he wanted to. She cleared her throat, meeting his smile with one of her own. "Of you?" she asked slyly, taking a seat across from him. "Not a chance."

"Really?" Cena asked casually. "Cause the look on your face earlier today told another story. You were scared."

Catherine bit her tongue, wanting nothing more than to tell him that he was full of it, that she wasn't afraid of him. However…she remembered a psychology seminar that she and Gil had been forced to take a year or two ago…

_Let them think that they have control. By doing so, you can manipulate them into telling you what you need to know._

The words of the instructor rang in Catherine's ears as she leaned back in her chair, clasping her hands on the table in front of her as she crossed her legs. "You did make me a little nervous," she finally stated. "What happened, James? Why did you try to attack me?"

"You pissed me off," Cena said simply, with a shrug. "You got in my face and I felt as if I was being threatened. I reacted to that."

"You felt threatened by me?" Catherine couldn't help but scoff. "I don't believe you."

"Not by you," Cena answered with a slight laugh, his gaze making Catherine shudder inwardly as he looked over her body. "Of what you could do to me."

"What could I do to you, James?" Catherine asked, slightly confused.

Cena leaned forward, making sure that he had Catherine's full attention. "You can send me back there," he said.

Catherine looked back at him, not understanding what he was saying before realizing what he meant. "To prison?" she asked.

"Yeah," Cena confirmed. "I didn't murder anyone. But I know how you people are. High profile case, you need a conviction, and the fact that her wallet had my prints on it is enough for you people to frame me. Just like you people framed me for the rape of Nina James."

"No one framed you for that, James," Catherine told him patiently. "An eyewitness heard you attacking Nina, and police caught you leaving the scene."

"There was no semen in her," Cena replied.

"You used a condom, James," Catherine answered.

"It wasn't me!" Cena exclaimed angrily, leaning forward as far as possible. "I was framed then, and I'm gonna be framed now!"

Catherine flinched slightly as he leaned, reminding herself that she was safe, that Cena couldn't hurt her. "No one is framing you, James," Catherine said softly, relieved that he hadn't noticed her flinch. "If you want to clear yourself, then all you have to do is give us a sample of your DNA."

Cena stared back at Catherine. "Why?" he asked, his façade breaking slightly.

"Here's the fun part, James," Catherine answered. "There was a hair found on the body of Jane Smelders. If you let us take a DNA sample, then we can clear you of this whole mess."

Cena stared at Catherine, at a loss for words for the first time since he had been brought in. "No," he finally stated, shaking his head firmly. "You're going to frame me."

"It's not in the nature of the lab to frame people, Mr. Cena," Catherine said as patiently as she could. "We are the top crime lab in the country, and we have only the best technicians working in DNA." She settled back, noticing that Cena was taken aback, finally unsure of himself. _You just don't want to give up your DNA and get nailed for the crime, you bastard,_ is what Catherine really wanted to yell across the table at him.

"No, I'm not letting you people frame me!" Cena exclaimed suddenly, trying to remain calm. "You did last time!"

"Oh, everyone's innocent!" Catherine scoffed. _Forget letting him think that he's in control, _she thought. _This is my show, not some bullshit role playing seminar. _"I'm sure that if we asked EVERY person in the world if they murdered Jane Smelders or raped Nina James then EVERYONE would be innocent!"

"I'm not everyone," Cena replied through gritted teeth. "I paid time for Nina that I shouldn't have had to, and I'm still paying for it by being on the sex offender's registry. I will NOT pay again for a crime that I didn't commit!"

"I can easily get a court order," Catherine told him, hoping her irritation wasn't showing through. Her lack of sleep was starting to get to her even worse than before, and her patience was wearing very thin. If Cena wanted to talk to her just so he could deny murdering Nina, then so be it. She just wished that he would have waited until she had some sleep and was fully coherent. "Given your past, whether you say it is true or not, gives probable cause to get a warrant," she finished, uncrossing her legs as she turned her body towards his.

"I'll refuse," Cena immediately stated. "You can't force me to give you my DNA."

"Oh, believe me, I can easily get your DNA right now if I wanted," Catherine answered with a smirk, nodding her head to his handcuffed wrists. "It's up to you whether you want to do it the easy way or the hard way."

Cena glared at Catherine, knowing that she had the advantage. "If you touch me, I will kill you," he said lowly.

She blinked, taken aback by his statement. She heard the door start to open, and she held up a hand, signaling to Brass to stay back, keeping her gaze on Cena. Catherine waited until she heard the door click shut before stating, "Threatening an officer of the law is a felony, James."

"Oh, fuck the law!" Cena yelled suddenly, making Catherine jump slightly. "This is bullshit! You people can't hold me here! I want to get out of here!"

Catherine crossed her arms, staring at the man in front of her. "All you have to do, Mr. Cena, is give a DNA sample. Then we can clear you," she told him. Their gazes met, and Catherine knew that she was looking into the face of a man who knew that he was screwed. He was guilty, and giving a DNA sample would prove that.

"You want a DNA sample?" Cena finally snarled, leaning across the table as far as he could.

"Yes," Catherine answered. _Is he that freaking dense?_

She barely had time to react as Cena tilted his head back. Catherine realized a second too late what he was planning, and she didn't have time to move.

James Cena spit in her face.

"There's your fucking DNA sample!" Cena yelled, pulling up on the table. It lifted a few inches, and Catherine involuntarily slid backwards, out of harm's way. She felt as if she was watching from outside her body as Brass and another officer made their way into the room, the two working to restrain Cena as he flailed about.

Catherine swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched the scene before her, raising her arm and trailing her sleeve along her face, wiping away the saliva from her face. Of all the things that had happened to her as a CSI…being accused by Gil of ethically damaging the lab…being attacked by a murderer…nearly losing Sara…watching Keppler die…losing Warrick…losing Gil…this was probably the most insulting, disgusting thing that had ever happened to her. Never had someone actually SPIT in her face.

Before they could stop her, Catherine shot up and out of her seat and fled past the struggling suspect and officers, making her way to the hallway. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she fought to keep her emotions under control as she made her way to the lady's room, turning the water on full force.

Using her hands, she cupped water into them and splashed it on her face, not caring that she was soaking her shirt and the floor in the process. She repeated the action, splashing her face with the cool liquid once again.

Her tears mingled with the water as she leaned over the sink, scrubbing her face for several long moments. Finally, she looked in the mirror, seeing Ecklie staring at her, concerned.

"This isn't the time for one of your speeches, Conrad," Catherine snapped, shutting off the water and reaching for the paper towels. Her senses were returning to her, and the fact that her shirt was damp in the cold restroom was becoming painfully obvious. She wiped her face, fighting to keep the sob back from her throat as she attempted to gain her bearings.

"I'm not here for a speech," Ecklie answered as he watched Catherine wipe hastily at her face. "I…want to make sure you're okay."

"Do I look okay, Conrad?!" Catherine snapped, whirling around to face him. "I'm exhausted, overworked, and a suspect just SPIT in my FACE!"

"I know, Catherine," Ecklie replied in what he hoped was a soothing tone. "And I'm sorry-"

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Catherine cut him off. "The bastard wanted me, and he got me." She swiped again at her face, still feeling as if his saliva was on her face. The urge to shower suddenly increased ten fold. Catherine had to stop herself from turning back to the sink and washing her face again. Instead, she chose to add, "In more ways then one."

"Look, Catherine…go home. Get some sleep, take tonight off-"

"I don't need time off," she snapped. "I'll be in tonight."

"Catherine-"

"Ecklie, I'm coming in. We're short Sanders and Hodges, and I can't afford for my shift to be short the supervisor too!" Catherine exclaimed, her voice rising as her temper rose.

Ecklie stared back at her, reading the defiance on her face. There was no way that he was letting her work tonight. She was a loose cannon ready to blow. "Willows, if you show up here tonight, I will have you escorted off the property. CSI Stokes will be in charge of the grave shift tonight," he finally told her.

Catherine glared at him, openmouthed, as she processed what he was telling her. "I'm suspended?" she asked him.

"Suspending you would involve paperwork, and an official review," Ecklie answered. "Consider it a vacation day."

Catherine shook her head, pushing past Ecklie. "This is bullshit," she growled, pushing the door open.

Ecklie followed her out the door, watching as she made her way to the locker room. "I'll see you tomorrow night, Catherine," he called.

~/~

Catherine placed her palms against her shower wall, letting the hot water run down her back. The water dripped from her face as she stared at the drain. It did nothing for the tension in her shoulders, as she felt worse after this long shower than she did before. Sighing, she reached for her washcloth again, pouring a generous amount of soap onto the cloth and scrubbing her face for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. She wasn't sure if it was pain from her initial injury, the fact that she had rubbed her face over and over, or the fact that her tears were continuously flowing, but her face was actually beginning to ache, her throat raw and scratchy. There was even a little bit of blood on her washcloth. She wondered if it was from the cut along the side of her nose, or whether she had actually washed her face so many times that it made her bleed.

With shaking hands, Catherine wrung out the excess soap from her washcloth, hanging it on the faucet before reaching down and shutting off the water, leaning her head against the glass door, beads of water from her body mixing with the condensation on the glass. She shivered slightly as the warmth quickly faded from the bathroom. She grabbed a towel, drying off her wet body as fast as possible.

Catherine dressed in the comfortable boxers and t-shirt that she often wore to bed, running a brush through her hair. She let the damp stands fall down her shoulders, not even bothering to dry it. _What was the point if she wasn't going to work tonight?_

She made her way out into the kitchen, grabbing a wine glass and filling it to the brim with her favorite white wine. Catherine glanced at the time on the microwave, smirking when she saw it was only 2:00. _What the hell, it's five o'clock somewhere…_

Catherine made her way to the living room, settling down on the couch and tucking her legs underneath her. She stared at the blank television, sipping her wine as she mentally made a checklist of the things that had happened to her in the last couple days….being knocked out and ending up with a black eye, fighting with her best friend, sparring with a murder suspect, getting spit in the face, and being suspended…_wait, I wasn't 'suspended,' I was given a vacation day. _Catherine sat there and just stared, an occasional tear falling down her face as she sat there, sipping her wine periodically.

She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there, but Lindsay came in the house, jumping a little when she saw her mom sitting there. She wasn't used to her mom being up at this time, as Catherine was usually fast asleep by the time her daughter came home from school. Lindsay was able to compose herself as Catherine turned her tear stained face to her daughter.

"What's wrong, mom?" she asked, alarmed. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. Something had happened to her grandmother…or Gil…or her mom was hurt seriously or ill. Catherine rarely cried, let alone in front of Lindsay. Her daughter had a brief flashback to several years ago…

_Her dad had died, and she had heard noises coming from her mom's room. Curiosity got the better of the younger Willows, and she padded down the hallway to see her mother lying in bed, her back to the door, her body shaking from the strong sobs that were overtaking her frame. _

_Lindsay's first instinct was to leave the room, to never let her mother know that she had seen her crying. She hated to see adults cry, and the fact that it was her strong and powerful mother just made it that much more difficult. However…something clicked in her and she padded into the room, crawling into bed with her mother. "It's okay, mommy," she had soothed, rubbing her hand on her shoulder. "It's okay."_

Catherine sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Nothing, Linds, I just had a horrible night at work," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Lindsay nodded slowly, gazing at her mother sympathetically. Setting her bag on the ground, she made her way to the couch, sitting next to her mother. Lindsay tugged the empty wine glass out of Catherine's loose grip, setting it on the table next to her. She wrapped her arms around Catherine, pulling her mother close to her.

Catherine buried her face in Lindsay's shoulder, her hands grasping her daughter's shirt. She cried, her tears dripping on the younger Willows' shirt. Lindsay held her mother close, rocking her gently and whispering what she hoped was soothing words into her mother's ear. Lindsay couldn't help but think how ironic it was that after seventeen years of Catherine comforting her daughter, the roles had somehow switched within the last couple of days. Her mother was vulnerable, showing Lindsay that years of hurt were finally catching up to her. They sat like that for several minutes before Catherine finally pulled back. "I'm sorry, Linds, I shouldn't bring my work home with me," she said softly.

"It's okay, mom," Lindsay soothed, pulling back and leaving a hand on her mom's shoulder. "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Catherine answered, shaking her head firmly. "I just…I can't."

Lindsay nodded, glancing at her mother critically as an awkward silence hung between the two of them. She looked exhausted: her face pale, eyes bloodshot, and it was obvious she hadn't been sleeping well – if at all – for a long time. "You need to sleep," Lindsay finally stated, worried. "You're going to burn yourself out and wind up sick."

"I know, baby," Catherine answered tiredly. "I just can't."

"You have to go to work in…nine hours. That's plenty of time to get some rest," Lindsay pointed out.

Catherine laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "I have off tonight," she told Lindsay. "Not by choice, of course."

Lindsay nodded slowly, reaching over and grabbing a throw pillow. She wasn't sure what had happened at work, but it was obvious her mom was upset and needed to sleep. She placed the pillow against her hip, pulling Catherine down. Her mom didn't resist as she laid her head down on her daughter's lap, snuggling close to her daughter as she closed her eyes. Lindsay reached along the back of the couch, pulling the afghan down and covering her mom.

She ran her hand along Catherine's back, rubbing what she hoped was soothing circles for several minutes before she noticed that her mother's breathing evened out. Lindsay glanced down, relieved that her mother was finally fast asleep. She made a move to slide away, only to freeze when Catherine whimpered softly in her sleep and gripped the edge of her shirt to stop her from leaving.

With a sigh, Lindsay settled back, leaning her head back against the couch and stretching her legs to rest on the coffee table. She stroked her mother's hair, closing her eyes.

It was going to be a long night.

~/~

End Part 4


	5. Bombshells

I apologize in advance for this chapter. I feel that it is very boring, and not filled with the action that I've been accustomed to writing the last few chapters. However, it is key to explaining and writing future events in the story. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. Please take the time to give me some feedback if you are reading, as it makes me smile and helps to pound out the chapters quicker.

Enjoy!

~/~

Catherine wasn't sure what woke her up, but she slowly forced her eyes open anyway. She was in her living room, the room dark as she lay there covered by a warm afghan. She glanced upwards, seeing her daughter dozing above her, her head resting on the back of the couch.

She slowly sat up, not wanting to wake Lindsay as she looked at her watch. 8:07. She glanced outside, in her sleepy state wondering for a moment if it was night or day. The darkness that was setting over her lawn was a clear indication that it was night, and she sighed.

_I'm still not getting enough sleep…_Catherine thought to herself. She felt somewhat better, but knew that it wasn't healthy if she wasn't getting enough sleep even when she was dead tired. She decided that when she went to bed later, she would take a sleeping pill in order to help her sleep, even though she didn't want to. As she had told Gil, she hated the feeling that she got when she woke up. Catherine always felt groggy and listless when she woke up after taking sleeping pills, and it took her a few hours to get up to speed and feel totally coherent, and that was after numerous cups of coffee.

Catherine looked down as Lindsay yawned, the younger Willows forcing her eyes open. "Hey," Catherine said softly, placing a hand on her daughter's knee. "Thank you." Catherine didn't need to clarify what she meant, as she knew that her daughter understood what she was talking about. Catherine had needed someone to simply be there for her. It wasn't in her nature to be needy, and for her daughter to see her at a weak moment was difficult. Lindsay had handled the situation like a pro, though.

"You're welcome, mom," Lindsay replied. "I think we both needed a little nap."

Catherine rubbed a hand across her tired face. "Are you okay?" she asked Lindsay. "Are you sleeping? How's school?" It was very rare that the two of them were able to talk about life, as Catherine pulled a lot of extra hours as supervisor, whether it be going in early or coming home late, and Lindsay was often doing some sort of class project or was out with friends when Catherine actually was home at a decent hour. The elder Willows felt terrible about this, and often questioned her adequacy as a mother, even as Lindsay was turning into a mature young adult. Obviously, something had gone right when she was raising Lindsay, so she at least had THAT to be thankful for.

Lindsay smiled slightly, noting the worried tone in her mother's voice. She knew that there were so many emotions going through her mom's mind. She knew that her mother was not only worried about her daughter's health as well as her doing well in school, but whether she was doing an adequate job as a mother. After Catherine had busted Lindsay dancing in a club on Halloween, she had tried to make sure she knew what Lindsay was up to at all times. It hadn't totally worked, as Lindsay still did a few things that she KNEW Catherine wouldn't approve of, but it wasn't like it was anything serious. She didn't drink, smoke, or do drugs, but she knew that if her mom knew what she was wearing to school, or that one of her friends was a member of a gang, then she would probably freak out WORSE than what she did in the nightclub.

"I'm okay, mom," Lindsay finally answered. "I'm sleeping fine, but school's been a little busier than usual with our senior papers and presentations due soon. Nothing I can't handle, though."

"Of course not," Catherine answered, ruffling her daughter's hair. "You inherited my brains and beauty!"

"Oh, stop mom!" Lindsay said with a blush. It was true, though. Despite a rocky few years after Eddie had died, Lindsay had gotten straight A's throughout high school, had a perfect attendance record, was the president of the senior class, a member of the drama club, and was a writer for the newspaper. She was never one to tout her own success though, so she changed the subject. "You hungry?" she asked her mom. "Cause I'm starving."

"Actually, I am," Catherine answered. "Let me see what I can make for dinner."

With that, she pushed up from the couch, letting the blanket fall to the floor, patting Lindsay's shoulder as she passed by. Lindsay stifled a yawn as she stood up and stretched before bending down and folding the blanket and placing it on the back of the couch where it belonged. She walked to the table in the foyer where they kept the mail, flipping through the envelopes. There was the cell phone bill and credit card bill that she knew Catherine would want, and she set them aside to hand to her mother in a minute. A grin came across Lindsay's face as she came across an envelope from Ticketmaster that she knew held her tickets for the upcoming Katy Perry concert. The smile quickly faded from her face as she flipped to the last envelope.

It was from the University of Delaware.

Lindsay stood there for several moments, just looking at the white envelope in her hand, the same white envelope that could either send her 3,000 miles across the United States or to a local college in Nevada. She swallowed, not sure whether she wanted to open the envelope or not.

"Hey, Linds, there's nothing to eat in here! Someone needs to catch up on the shopping around here!" Catherine said lightly. Lindsay quickly hid the envelope behind the Ticketmaster one, looking up as her mom came to the foyer. "Since I'm apparently three weeks behind on grocery shopping, what do you say we go out to dinner?"

"That's fine," Lindsay said automatically, her fingers itching to rip open the letter in her hands.

"I'll have to do some shopping tomorrow before I go back to bed. What have you been eating anyways?"

Lindsay smiled weakly at her mom, shrugging. "I make Grandma feed me," she finally replied.

Catherine smiled back, heading up the stairs. "Give me five minutes to change, then we can go to the diner," she called to her daughter.

Lindsay nodded, settling down on her couch and staring at the letter. She wanted to open it so badly, but she was scared that it was going to be bad news, and she didn't want to ruin the night with her mother. Catherine seemed to be in a better mood then before, and she hated seeing her mother exhausted and upset.

She pulled her cell phone out, relieved that it had been on silent during their family nap. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to be disturbed while she slept, as it was clear that she needed the rest. Lindsay had two missed calls and seven missed texts. She listened to her voicemail, deciding that her friends could wait as she worked on quickly answering each text.

Catherine bounded down the steps, shaking her head as her daughter furiously worked her fingers across the keyboard that came attached to her phone. _Thank God for unlimited texting,_ she thought with a shake of her head. She couldn't believe the number of texts her daughter sent in a month. She hardly ever texted her friends or colleagues, as Catherine preferred to just pick up the phone and call people. Besides, she wasn't even sure if she knew how to properly text. She received a few throughout the way, mostly from people within the lab who wanted to let her know test results, but that was it. In the time it took her to write out a text explaining something, she could have called the person AND probably taken a brief nap.

"Hey, honey, you ready?"

"Yeah," Lindsay answered, standing up and walking to her purse and to the door without looking up. "By the way, the cell phone and credit card bills came. I left them on the table by the phone."

_How does she do that without walking into something? _Catherine wondered in amazement. She shook her head wryly before following Lindsay out the door.

~/~

Twenty minutes later, they were settled into a booth at one of their favorite diners, Catherine sipping on an ice water as Lindsay quietly poured some sugar into her iced tea. They had placed their orders several minutes ago: a grilled chicken salad for Catherine and a cheeseburger deluxe for Lindsay. Catherine couldn't help but notice that Lindsay was silent all of a sudden, and she cleared her throat gently.

Lindsay looked up, smiling what she hoped was a calm, collected smile at her mother.

"What's wrong, honey?" Catherine asked softly. "You're quiet."

"I…it's nothing, mom," Lindsay answered. She met her mother's gaze, seeing that she was somewhat skeptical but didn't want to push. With a sigh, she reached into her purse and pulled out the letter from the University of Delaware. Without saying anything, she handed it to Catherine.

She looked over it briefly, taking in the name on the top left corner and the title underneath: Office of Admissions. Catherine sucked in a breath, hoping that she was being subtle as she realized that the envelope was: the response from the college application Lindsay had sent in a couple months ago. "It's not opened," Catherine finally pointed out, her voice hitching slightly as she looked over the envelope.

"I know," Lindsay answered, her eyes downcast.

"Why not?"

Lindsay balled up her straw wrapper as she pushed it across the table, still not meeting her mother's gaze. "I don't know," she finally replied. "I'm scared."

"Why?" Catherine questioned. "You're very smart, Linds, they'd be stupid not to take you!" Seeing her daughter was still hesitant, she lightly asked, "Want me to open it?" Lindsay gave her mother a look that was mixed with exasperation and frustration. She shook her head in the negative, tracing the pattern along the table with her finger. In a way, Catherine was kind of relieved that Lindsay had declined her offer, as she wasn't sure SHE was even prepared for what was in that envelope.

"I just…I dunno, mom, this is just a huge step to my future," Lindsay finally said softly. "What if I'm not accepted? And what if I am?"

"Hey," Catherine replied, reaching across the table and taking Lindsay's hand in hers. She placed the letter in her daughter's hand, making sure that they were maintaining eye contact as she felt Lindsay's fingers grip the envelope. "You'll never know what the future holds if you don't open that letter," she pointed out.

Lindsay sighed and nodded, pulling her hands back and ripping open the envelope carefully. With shaking hands, she unfolded the letter, skimming the first few lines of text. A wide smile broke out as she looked up at her mother.

"Good news?" Catherine eagerly asked, though she couldn't help but notice the sinking feeling in her stomach as her daughter's face lit up.

"'Dear Ms. Willows,'" Lindsay read. "'We are pleased to announce that we have accepted you to a full scholarship to the University of Delaware's Forensic Science program. Your grades and transcripts have been reviewed, and we cannot wait to welcome you as a member of our division.'"

"Congratulations, sweetie!" Catherine told her daughter, scooting out of the booth and leaning over to hug her daughter. She ignored the voice in the back of her head that told her that Lindsay was going to be moving across the country, focusing on the huge accomplishment that her daughter had achieved in making it to a good college with a full scholarship. "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart!"

"I can't believe this!" Lindsay said excitedly. "A full scholarship! I have to text Margi!"

Catherine started to open her mouth to reply, but the waitress came with their food. Lindsay reluctantly put her phone away as her mother returned to her seat. While Catherine was a pretty relaxed mother, she did have one rule: no texting during mealtimes. It was a simple rule, one that Lindsay respected without a fight, probably due to the fact that the two of them hardly shared meals anymore.

The pair dug into their dinners, silent as each were lost in their thoughts. Lindsay was very excited, as she was going to be going to college in a different state that was well known for their forensic science division. It was a huge change in her life, and she was ready to put her focus on her studies and meeting new friends in a smaller city then Las Vegas. Catherine, on the other hand, was very proud of her daughter, but she was also sad. After Eddie had been murdered, the two of them had grown fairly close, and now her only baby was going to be moving to a state that probably wasn't even as big as the city of Las Vegas. She was scared of letting go.

The bell on the door dinged, signifying that there was a new entrant into the diner. Out of habit, Catherine looked up, surprised to see Gil and Sara making their way into the diner. Automatically, his eyes locked on hers. Reluctantly, Catherine raised her hand in a wave, and the pair made their way over.

"Uncle Gil! Sara! Hi!" Lindsay said excitedly, sliding over in the booth. "Come join us!"

Catherine resisted the urge to kick her daughter under the table. While she wasn't mad at Gil anymore, she still was a little bit jealous about the fact that Gil was with Sara, and not her. Grumbling to herself, she slid across her seat too, watching as Gil sat next to Lindsay, kissing her daughter on the forehead.

"Hey, butterfly, you're looking good!" Gil said. "How are you?"

"I'm great! I got accepted to the University of Delaware on a full scholarship!" Lindsay told Gil.

"Oh, wow, congratulations!" Gil answered, pulling Lindsay in a hug. "I knew that you could do it!"

Catherine watched the scene play out before her, smiling to herself. Gil was very close to her daughter, and everyone knew it. Gil was probably the closest thing to a father that Lindsay had since Eddie had died, something that Gil took seriously. He still attended her plays and dances, and Catherine knew that Gil often read over her daughter's newspaper articles. In addition, he made sure to give Lindsay birthday and Christmas presents, and even sent home little treats for the younger Willows. With as close as the two of them were, it made sense that Lindsay had told him all about the plans that she had for attending college. It also made sense that Lindsay knew to call Gil after Catherine had been injured at work. _Granted, Lindsay probably hadn't expected for her mother and Gil to take a nap in the same bed together, but that was that…_

Catherine glanced over at Sara, not really surprised to see that the younger woman was looking back at her, her dark eyes taking in the bruising around Catherine's eye. "Hey, Cath," Sara finally said when she realized that Catherine was watching her. "That looks…" she trailed off, not sure how to verbalize her thoughts.

"It feels a lot better than it looks," Catherine offered, reaching over and hugging her former colleague briefly. "You look good, Sara."

"Thanks, you do too," Sara answered, and an uncomfortable silence fell over the four at the table.

The waitress saw that her table had two new occupants, and she made her way over to the four. "Can I get you something to eat or drink?" she asked Gil and Sara.

"Just decaf coffee for the two of us, thanks," Gil said. The waitress nodded, and she made her way to the counter to get their coffee. "We just saw a show and decided to get some coffee before heading home."

Catherine nodded, pushing a strip of chicken around her plate. For some reason, her appetite had flown out the window when Sara and Gil arrived at the diner. "So, uh, Gil tells me that you're planning on getting married soon," Catherine finally spoke up. It was the last thing that she wanted to talk about, but it beat sitting there in silence like they had been.

"Yeah, and it's funny that we ran into you here, because I have a question to ask you," Sara answered, glancing across the table at Gil. She seemed hesitant for some reason. Catherine warily glanced at Gil, who seemed to be encouraging Sara with his eyes. _That's pretty impressive that I can read his eyes when he's not talking to me,_ Catherine couldn't help but think. _Or is it a bad thing that I can read him so well when we're not a couple?  
_

"What's up?" Catherine asked, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the table yet again.

"I was…well, Gil and I were talking about bridesmaids and groomsmen for the wedding, and…well, I need another bridesmaid," Sara stumbled slightly. "Well, not need, but I want another one…"

"Okay," Catherine encouraged, even though she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach about what was coming. _Oh, please, God, DO NOT do this to me…_

"Well, I spoke to two friends already, and they already agreed, but…" Another brief glance at Gil, then Sara continued, "Would you be my third bridesmaid?"

_HELL. NO. _"I…I'm honored, Sara, thank you. Yeah, I would love that." _Ugh…I'm so full of…_

"Oh, thank you Catherine!" Sara said, smiling at the strawberry blonde. She was relieved. While she didn't view Catherine as an enemy, she knew that the two of them had a somewhat rocky friendship. Sara couldn't help but think back to a fight that they had in the hallway outside of the interrogation room after Eddie had been murdered.

_Sara all but shoved Catherine out of the interrogation room, her colleague breathing heavily after threatening a woman who had called her daughter a brat. "What the hell are you doing?!" Sara asked Catherine. Seeing that she was still fuming, Sara hesitantly asked Catherine, "Do you know where you're at right now?"_

_Catherine ignored the question, whirling around to face Sara. "I've been here A LOT longer than you-" she started, only to be interrupted by her taller counterpart._

"_Then you should know better!" Sara couldn't help but snap at Catherine._

"_-and I wouldn't have to be here if you were doing your job properly!" Catherine finished._

_Sara shook her head. "There is a difference between me doing my job and you wanting to do it for me. You don't want to get the job done. What you want right now is revenge," she bluntly told Catherine. _

_Catherine wasn't sure what to say at first, then challenged, "You're gonna tell me what I want, huh?"_

_Sara didn't hesitate as she stared at Catherine. "Go home, Catherine," she said evenly. "Be with your daughter. She's the one that needs you." It wasn't often that Catherine was rendered speechless, but as Sara turned and walked down the hall, she had nothing to say back. _

Catherine sighed to herself, wondering if she was in over her head. She loved Gil, there was no doubt about it, and being part of his wedding party was going to be nothing but pure torture as she watched the happy couple dance the night away at their wedding. She was shocked that Sara had actually asked her. While they were good friends, they had a history of arguing, including one case that nearly got Sara fired…

"_You can't arrest someone for marrying the wrong person," Catherine had tried to reason with Sara after she had verbally attacked a suspect in the interrogation room. _

_Sara just scoffed, muttering, "You would know," as they walked down the hall._

_They had bickered for a few more moments until finally Catherine stopped in the middle of the hall, turning to Sara. "You know…" she started, attempting to keep in her anger. It wasn't easy, though, as Sara was pushing her last nerve. "Every time we get a case with a hint of domestic violence or abuse, you go off the deep end. What is your problem?"_

_Sara hadn't backed down from the challenge, and stepped closer to Catherine as she shot back, "Yeah, I probably do, and you let your sexuality cloud your judgment about men, and I'm gonna go over your head!"_

_Whatever Catherine was going to say was cut off by Ecklie, who came up, unbeknownst to the two ladies arguing in the hallway. "Sidle! Get in my office now!"_

_Catherine and Sara had exchanged heated glares before Sara pushed past her, stalking behind Ecklie. Catherine had glared at the lab rats who had converged to watch the exchange before walking to her own office, slamming the door behind her. _

"That's awesome, mom!" Catherine glanced at Lindsay, smiling weakly at her daughter as she tore her mother from her thoughts. "Are you going to dress in a really fancy dress?!" Lindsay asked.

"Well, that's up to Sara," Catherine answered, glancing at Gil. They held each other's gaze for several long moments before Gil finally nodded subtly. So much was conveyed in that one nod: gratitude and relief being the two most dominant feelings. Catherine nodded back before turning her attention back to her salad, halfheartedly listening as Lindsay excitedly told Gil and Sara about how amazing the University of Delaware's Forensic Science Unit apparently was.

In a matter of minutes, so much had changed in her life, and she wasn't sure that either of the bombshells dropped on her were good.

~/~

Finished Chapter 5/?


	6. Back

So, thanks to all of you who gave me positive feedback on the last chapter. I'm not sure how I feel about this one, either, as it's got the boring factor again. I've tweaked it over and over and over, but it just seems like it's missing that edge that I want to achieve with this fic. Add to that that I'm currently on day 9 of 10 straight working, and I'm pooped and loosing my creative touch. Howeverrrrr….trust me when I say that the action will come back very soon. *evil smile* Seriously, folks, just bear with me here. It will pick back up soon. As usual, the feedback is much appreciated!

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The next few days passed without incident. Catherine had caved the night that Sara asked her to be a bridesmaid and had taken a sleeping pill, mainly because of the fact that she knew she wouldn't be called into work. When she awoke the next day at 2 PM, she still felt exhausted and somewhat groggy, but her body had caught up on the sleep it so desperately needed. By the time she went back to work, the pill had worn off, and she felt somewhat better and ready to face the lab. Ecklie had let the issue drop from the previous day and hadn't mentioned anything to his boss, staying true to his word…for once…that it was a "vacation day" that Catherine had taken, not a suspension.

Now, four days later, Catherine sat in her office fifteen minutes before her shift officially started, hurriedly signing off reports that should have been signed off days before. She had come in two hours earlier to do her paperwork, and without interruptions, she was almost done with the task at hand. She wasn't sure what happened, as usually she was sure to keep her paperwork up to date, but the last week had been hell since they were shorthanded and a suspect had decided to challenge her nerves. The door to Catherine's office had been cracked open all night and she worked without interruption, save for Judy stopping in a few minutes ago to give her a list of assignments for the night. A knock sounded on the door, bringing her out of her deep concentration.

_Hesitant…light handed…it's probably Greg._

Glancing at her calendar, she knew that she was right, as today was the last day of his and Hodges' suspension. "Come in," she called, looking up from her paperwork as she continued to sign her name, seeing Greg hesitantly walk into the office.

"Greggo. Welcome back," she said nonchalantly, taking off her glasses and putting them on her desk. "What's up?"

Greg shuffled his feet, his hands deep into his jeans pockets as he refused to make eye contact with Catherine. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm back to work tonight, and that I apologize for my conduct last week. It won't happen again," Greg told her, sounding as if he was reciting an apology that he had spent a great deal of time attempting to word.

Catherine wanted to joke about his formal tone, but decided that it wasn't the time or place. While he clearly wasn't the instigator of the situation that had occurred, she could still tell that the young CSI was embarrassed about the altercation that had occurred. He looked up to Catherine like a mother at times, and he felt that he had let her down.

"Your apology is accepted, Greg. Thank you," Catherine chose to say, instead.

Greg finally looked up, his eyes searching her face. The bruise was almost gone, the skin tinged with yellow and green. The cut that had been alongside her nose was healed, a light scar barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. It looked much better than it had before, but…in Greg's opinion, it was something that never should have happened. It was so out of character for him to lose his temper, but something about Hodges had set him off for the last time. If he had known that Catherine was going to end up injured as a result of his actions, however, he never would have shoved Hodges. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it as he tried to think of something besides 'I'm sorry' to say.

Catherine noticed his hesitation, setting her pen down on top of the list of assignments, clasping her hands in front of her. She thought very carefully as she decided what to say to her CSI . "Greg…I'm not mad at you, or Hodges, even. What happened is in the past, and we can both sit here and dwell on it, or we can move past this incident and become an even stronger team then before. I think that we've all learned lessons. We all need to keep our tempers in check, and if we feel angry or about to blow, then we should take some time to cool off." She paused, then added, "But believe me, if two of my colleagues are fighting again, trust me when I say that I won't be trying to break them up," she said with a small smile.

Greg finally smiled back, relief evident on his youthful face. While it was good to know that Catherine wasn't mad at him, he still felt guilty. She could have been seriously hurt thanks to him…well, and Hodges. Right before Hodges had struck him a second time in the face, he had seen Hodges' elbow strike Catherine in the face, the impact sending her backwards into her desk. Catherine's body stiffened slightly as she slid to the floor, then went limp when she actually did hit the floor. Greg found himself lost in his own thoughts, thinking back to a week ago.

"_Hodges! You asshole, you just nailed Catherine!" Greg had yelled, shoving the older man off of him. _

_Hodges whirled around, the sight of Catherine on the ground, unconscious, breaking him out of his rage. He had felt his elbow strike something, but he never realized that it had been Catherine. _

_Greg scrambled past him, his knees next to Catherine's head as he called her name. "Catherine! Cath! Oh, God…"_

"_What the hell is going on in here?!" Greg looked up to see Nick in the doorway, Riley, Brass, and Ray behind him. Nick's gaze immediately went to Catherine's unconscious form lying on the ground and he whirled around. "Riley, go get Doc Robbins," he told Riley as he made his way next to Catherine. "Cath? He said softly, patting her cheeks. "Come on, Cath, open your eyes for me?" She moaned but refused to open her eyes. "What the hell happened here?" Nick asked again, looking between Greg and Hodges. There was a welt on Greg's jaw, and Hodges appeared to be favoring his hand. _

"_We…Hodges and I… we were…well, we were arguing…" Greg stammered, the events of the last few minutes finally catching up to him. _

"_Oh, please, tell me that you two did not just get into a fistfight! What is wrong with you two?" Nick looked down, trying to keep Catherine's head still as she subconsciously moved her head. He wasn't sure how she had been injured, nor was he sure if she had some sort of neck or spinal injury. "What happened to Catherine?" Nick asked. "Please tell me that one of you assholes didn't slug her!"_

_While Nick knew that his anger wasn't helping the situation, he couldn't help it as he dressed the pair down verbally. He looked up to Catherine, not only as a boss, but as a mother figure, too. He was overly protective of her. When Warrick had died, he had made a silent vow to his friend that he would watch over the blonde just like his friend had for so many years. _

_So far he had failed. _

"_I…that was me," Hodges admitted. "I apparently nailed her in the face. I…I didn't realize that…what I had done…" _

"_What is going on here?!" All noise in the room stopped as they looked to the door, Ecklie walking into the room, Doc Robbins, Riley, and a police officer behind him. He looked between Greg and Hodges, then down at Catherine. He barely moved as Doc Robbins brushed past him, limping over to where Catherine laid, patting her cheeks rapidly in an attempt to wake her up. "Well?" he asked when no one spoke up._

"_We…" Hodges finally spoke up. "We got into an argument."_

"_And how did that argument wind up with Catherine knocked out on the floor?"_

"_I…I shoved Hodges, and he punched me. Somehow, we ended up on the floor, and Catherine tried to break us up," Greg recounted. _

_Hodges sighed, shaking his head as he finished, "I accidentally elbowed Catherine in the face. When she fell back, she hit her head on the desk."_

_Ecklie closed his eyes briefly before reopening them. "Fighting in the workplace is unacceptable," Ecklie finally said. "I won't tolerate it, and you are both on a one week suspension without pay. Brass, Officer Akers, would you please escort CSI Sanders and Hodges out of the building?"_

_Brass and Akers stepped forward, the two leading Greg and Hodges out of Catherine's office. Hodges stared ahead, not making eye contact with anyone in the room. Greg, however, looked down, his eyes watering slightly as he came to grips with all that had happened. He looked up before leaving the room and met Nick's gaze, the Texan shaking his head in disappointment before looking back at Catherine. _

_Doc Robbins broke a set of smelling salts, shaking Catherine's shoulder as he waved the salts under her nose. _"_Catherine…Catherine?" Doc Robbins smiled slightly as she moved her head, her eyes fluttering as she brought up a hand to irritably swat at the offensive smell near her face. "I think she's coming to. Cath? Can you hear me?"_

Greg looked up as a knock sounded at Catherine's door. He nearly groaned when Hodges walked in the room. "Catherine. Greg," he said stiffly, standing next to Greg as the pair looked at Catherine.

_If this isn't déjà vu, I don't know what is, _Catherine thought. She cleared her throat softly, looking between the two men. "I…welcome back, Hodges," she finally stated. "I trust that we've settled down, and we can get back to work without any issues?"

"Yes, Catherine. I'd like to apologize to you and Greg for my actions the other day. I was out of line, and it will not be happening again," Hodges answered, not making eye contact with Catherine or Greg. Like Greg, he sounded as if he was reciting an apology.

Catherine opened her mouth to reply, only to have Nick stick his head in the door. "Hey, boss, we're all here," he said to Catherine.

Catherine waved them in, taking in her staff as they stood in front of her desk. There was Ray, the newest member of the team on one end, looking immaculate in his suit as he eagerly looked at Catherine, prepared for his assignment for the night. Whether he carried an enigma about him or not, she had to admit that Ray was incredibly dedicated to his job and one of the fastest learners she had ever worked with. Next to him was Greg, the recently promoted CSI looking somewhat more relaxed then what he had when he entered Catherine's office minutes before. Greg had a determined look on his face, one that told Catherine that he wanted to regain her trust and prove himself. Hodges stood next to Greg, a look on his face that Catherine had a hard time putting her finger on. While he looked somewhat humbled, there was still that trademark smirk on his face that irked Catherine to no end. She couldn't help but compare him to Greg, who looked like he would do anything to get back in Catherine's good graces. Hodges looked like nothing had happened, and like he had nothing to apologize for.

She brought her gaze to Nick, keeping her smile in check as she looked at him. He had grown from a young man to a mature adult in the time she had known him, and she couldn't be prouder. This was her second time supervising him. Catherine shuddered slightly, thinking back briefly to the day they nearly lost him. She had felt so guilty about what had happened to Nick, and she still did at times. In addition, as painful as Warrick's funeral had been, she was somewhat relieved when she and Nick had been next to each other, grieving. When her tears could no longer be held back, Nick had grasped her hand, pulling her to him as they cried together. If she had to pick an absolute favorite on her team, it was Nicky. They had been through so much together, and just like Grissom had looked at Catherine as his second hand for so long, Catherine looked at Nick as her second hand. Still, she respected Riley as well, her eyes moving from Nick to the young woman next to him. Riley stood there almost as eagerly as Ray, ready for whatever Catherine assigned her. While the youngest member of the team had yet to really shine, she was proving to be a strong asset to the team. It was obvious that the younger woman looked up to Catherine as a mentor, and wanted to prove herself even more.

The supervisor shook herself from her thoughts, picking up the stack of papers underneath her pen. "Alight, apparently the criminals are taking off tonight, so there's not much going on. We're going to be splitting up in pairs for now, unless something major breaks. Nicky, you and Ray have a break in," she handed Nick the slip. "Riley, you and I will be looking into an attempted kidnapping," she told Riley, smiling slightly at her. "And Greg, I want you and Hodges to investigate this robbery," she finished, handing Greg the slip. She ignored the shocked looks on her team's face at her pairing Hodges and Greg together, alone, and asked, "Okay?"

Everyone nodded and filed out of the room, Nick last in line. He paused before turning back to Catherine. She smiled slightly, donning her glasses. "I'll meet you in a minute, Riley," she called, determined to sign off the last few reports quickly. "What's up, Nick?"

"I…Catherine, you know that I respect you and all, but are you sure that it's a good idea to have Greggo and Hodges work together? Alone?" he asked.

Catherine smiled at Nick. "Oh, they'll be just fine," she told him, winking. "Don't worry about them."

"If you say so, Cath," Nick answered with a shrug. "See you later."

Catherine chuckled as Nick left, looking befuddled. She signed her name with a flourish to the last paper, standing up and glancing at her watch. _Ha! Done with two minutes to spare! _Her goal had been to get done the reports before her shift officially started, and she had done so.

She gathered up her kit and camera, and walked out of the office. Everything seemed to be going back to normal, thank God.

~/~

Nine hours later, the team sat at their favorite diner, finishing up breakfast. It was Saturday, and while criminals obviously didn't take a break, the team was still allowed to have days off. Catherine, however, was 'fortunate' enough to be on call for the weekend. This basically meant that while it was her weekend off, she was expected to back up the other teams if they needed her. It was one of the downfalls of being a supervisor, but it was one that Catherine really didn't mind. She just hoped that she would be able to go shopping with Lindsay at some point this weekend.

Catherine stifled a yawn, pushing her egg beaters around on her fork. She wasn't really that hungry, but she knew that Nick would lecture her about eating healthy if she didn't at least pretend to be eating. All she wanted to do at the moment was curl into a ball in the corner and take a nap.

She looked up as everyone laughed, the group looking at Riley as she blushed. Catherine hadn't been paying attention to her company, but she chuckled lightly nonetheless. Nick looked at her, smiling slightly. He thought that Catherine looked exhausted, but never would he point that out to her in front of the rest of the team.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm worn out," Nick spoke up instead, tossing his napkin on the table. "I need some sleep."

Everyone nodded in agreement. Nick reached for the check, only to have Catherine snatch it out of his hand. "I've got it, Nicky," she told him. This was met with a chorus of thank you's, and Catherine smiled. "Get out of here, guys, I'll see you Monday night," she told them.

The group dispersed, save for Nick. "Thanks, Cath, I'll wait up for you," he said, smiling at her.

"Okay," Catherine agreed, making her way to the counter to pay for breakfast. Nick stood next to her, the two content in their silence as the waitress ran her credit card. She added in a generous tip and signed her name quickly. "Thanks, see you later, Kristen," she told the familiar waitress.

"Bye, Catherine," she replied.

Nick and Catherine made their way out of the diner, Catherine pulling her sunglasses over her eyes. She and Nick made their way to their cars, which were parked next to each other. Catherine hit the button to unlock her door, turning to Nick.

"I can tell you have something on your mind, Nicky," Catherine told him. "Talk to me."

Nick was slightly taken aback by Catherine's straightforward comment. He thought that he was being subtle. Smiling bashfully, Nick shook his head. "I'm…I'm worried about you, Cath."

"Why?" Catherine asked.

"You look like you haven't been sleeping, you come in early and work late, and you're not really eating that well…I guess I'm just afraid that you're going to burn yourself out," Nick admitted.

Catherine looked up at him, surprised for his concern. She wasn't really used to anyone displaying affection or concern for her since Gil left and Warrick had died. She felt as if it was her against the world sometimes, but she supposed she had at least one ally. "I uh…" Catherine trailed off, digging the heel of her boot into the ground. "I don't know, Nicky. I'm tired, but it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. And as for my crazy work hours…I suppose it's just a part of being the supervisor. It's more responsibility, and it's easy to get behind. I use that time to catch up," she explained.

Nick looked her over, finally nodding. "Just…be careful, Cath. I don't want to have to take over for you for a week or something because you've exhausted yourself," he replied.

Catherine nodded back at him, standing on her toes to wrap an arm around his shoulders and give him a kiss on the cheek. "I appreciate it, Nicky. Thanks," Catherine said.

Nick squeezed her shoulder, then reached over and opened her door for her. "Have a good day, Catherine. If you need a hand this weekend, just give me a call," Nick told her.

Catherine stepped up into her Jeep, setting her purse and phone on the passenger's seat before turning back to Nick and patting his hand. "I appreciate it, Nicky. Take care of yourself and stay out of trouble, would you?" Catherine answered with a wink, moving her hand so that Nick could shut the door.

She watched as Nick got into his car, sighing as he pulled away. Catherine was hoping that her façade would trick everyone in the lab, but if Nick had picked up on the fact she was a worn out workaholic, then…well, she wasn't sure what she'd have to do in order to make sure that the rest of the lab didn't realize.

Catherine's cell phone rang, and for a moment she wondered if the day shift needed help already. Seeing Sara's name on the display screen, however, she flipped it open, and asked "Yeah?"

"Hey, Cat, what are you up to?" Sara asked.

"Nothing, just had some breakfast, and I was getting ready to grab some sleep. I'm on call this weekend," she explained. "What's up?"

"Well…my friends and I were going to go bridesmaid and wedding dress shopping. We were hoping that you'd want to come with us," Sara said hopefully. "But I know how tired you must be…"

Catherine closed her eyes briefly before looking at her clock. "It's…it's fine Sara," she finally relented. "Where should I meet you?"

"We were doing to meet at David's Bridal," Sara said. "Is that okay?"

_No. _"Yeah, it's okay, Sara. I can be there in fifteen minutes," Catherine relented.

The relief was evident in Sara's voice. "Thanks, Cath, see you soon," Sara told her.

"Later," Catherine answered, groaning after she flipped her phone shut. She laid her head against the steering wheel for a long moment.

Why was it that she couldn't think of herself for once?

~/~

End Part 6/?


	7. Bridesmaid

Hi…*waves sheepishly* Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. I've been insanely busy at work (working 6 days/week) and am trying to plan a wedding and all that jazz. Add to that that I've hurt my knee (not to mention a smattering of foot trouble) pretty bad somehow, so I'm trying to deal with that, and sitting at a computer for hours to write isn't a smart idea cause my knee locks up and it becomes painful to walk. Enough about me, though…

I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter up. It's been written for awhile, and I just haven't gotten a chance to post it. However, I've gotten a lot of the next few chapters written, so updates shouldn't take too long. This chapter is unbetaed, so any mistakes are mine, and all mine. I read and reread and reread my work again several times before I post, and am really picky and all, but I do seem to miss some things, and I do apologize for that. However, you all have been waiting for the next chapter, so I made the decision to post it unbetaed.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think about it! The next couple of chapters are definitely going to pick up in the drama AND Grillows factors, so the faster/more you review, the faster I'll be posting the next chapter….*HINT HINT* lol

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Catherine stifled a yawn for what seemed like the thirtieth time in the last twenty minutes. Normally she loved to shop, but not when she was exhausted and the shopping wasn't even for her. She lazily flipped through a rack of dresses, trying to find the type of dress that Sarah had described. _Straight down the front, kinda poofy in the back, some sequins along the breasts…be not a lot, no train, and sleeveless but not a tube top. _Talk about being a little TOO specific…Catherine didn't understand why Sara just didn't have a dress made if she had such specifications…

So far, she had found two dresses that had met the description…or so she thought…only to have Sara's maid of honor shoot down her suggestions with a scoff or a flick of her hand. _Why the hell am I even here if you're going to ignore my suggestions?! _Catherine had wanted to scream at the woman that was accompanying them. However, she had remained calm, choosing to simply bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying something that she would regret.

Warily, Catherine looked over the racks, seeing Sara's friend intently looking over every dress on the rack adjacent to hers. The woman had been introduced to Catherine as Elizabeth, but the blonde was about to start calling her Queen Elizabeth. She was about five foot ten, the heels she was wearing causing her to tower over Catherine's five foot four heel clad frame. She wasn't thin or heavy, but somewhere right in between. Elizabeth had dark hair, nearly black from obvious hair coloring, and brown eyes that didn't sparkle. She had a presence about her that screamed dictator and Catherine was about to start calling her 'ma'am' when she addressed her.

Catherine usually wasn't intimidated by people, even the suspects that she faced everyday, but there was something about this woman that made her very nervous. Maybe it was the way that her eyes trailed over Catherine as they shook hands, Elizabeth's gaze taking in Catherine head to toe. And it wasn't even like she was checking Catherine out; it was more like she was scrutinizing her, or sizing up an enemy. She wasn't sure why Elizabeth would consider her an enemy, as they had literally just met.

It wasn't even just that. When they had shook hands, Elizabeth had gripped Catherine's hand tightly, pulling the blonde woman easily to her. Catherine had indignantly resisted the treatment, as she wasn't one to accept being bullied or pushed around, especially since she left Eddie. She attempted to pull her hand from Elizabeth's iron grip, confusion on her face as she searched Elizabeth's dark eyes, only to have the taller woman squeeze Catherine's hand tighter as she said, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Catherine. Sara has told me all about you."

_Bull…shit…_

Catherine had been wary to face Sara's other friend, but nonetheless extended her hand to the other woman, moving her fingers to try to get some feeling back into them after Elizabeth had attempted to crush her hand in a vice grip. "I'm Catherine," she had told the woman.

She seemed a little friendlier than Elizabeth, and had responded shyly, "I'm Kristine." Kristine was the youngest of the trio, obviously, but Catherine wasn't sure exactly how old she was. She was probably about thirty or thirty-five, and a tiny little woman. She was a little shorter than Catherine, and couldn't have weighed more than 120 pounds. She had long blonde hair that was streaked with black and piercing green eyes. Kristine was wearing a short skirt, sleeveless top, and, despite the heat, black boots that complimented her legs. And it wasn't as if she looked like a hooker who had walked in off the streets; Kristine's outfit was classy and beautiful, much like the woman herself.

With a shake of her head, Catherine continued looking through the dresses, not really focusing on any of them as she thought about how she would rather be at home right now, curled under her blankets and fast asleep. She wondered why she had even agreed to come out shopping. Catherine was sure that Sara would have understood if she would have declined the invitation, as Sara had worked the grave shift for many years as well and knew how exhausted one could get working long hours…

"I already looked through them." Catherine jumped slightly at the gruff voice, looking up and seeing Elizabeth standing next to her, invading her personal space. She had been lost so deep in her musings that she hadn't noticed that Elizabeth had moved closer to her.

"I…didn't realize that," Catherine answered, reflectively taking a step away from the taller woman. "I'm sorry."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, only to stop when the door to one of the dressing rooms opened. Elizabeth plastered a smile on her face, whistling loudly as Sara made her way out of the room. "Sexy!" she called to Sara. Catherine had to resist rolling her eyes. Elizabeth seemed like one of those people who drew unnecessary attention to people, one of the biggest pet peeves that Catherine had. While she wasn't a shy person at all, it annoyed her when people had to make a big scene to draw people's attention, especially when it was drawn to a group that she was associated with.

Sara blushed slightly, twirling around as her bridesmaids and the wedding dress specialist crowded around her. "What do you guys think?" she asked.

"You look great!" Elizabeth spoke up for the group. Catherine and Kristine nodded as well, and Catherine couldn't help the twinge of jealously that settled in the pit of her stomach as she looked at Sara. Her marriage to Eddie had been on a whim, and she had been forced to pick a dress that she didn't really like; however, Eddie had insisted that she simply choose a dress and get it over with. Sara however…she looked gorgeous and was glowing. _And why not? After all, she was fortunate enough to be marrying a wonderful man._

"You guys think so?" Sara asked shyly. "I don't really like the way that the sleeves kind of tilt inwards…" She gestured to the sleeves, which had formed a sideways V on Sara's shoulders. Catherine had to agree. While the rest of the dress looked beautiful, the top half made her look like a modern day Morticia Adams. _All she needed was a piece of fabric behind her neck to stick up, and Sara would look like someone who had just stepped out of Transylvania…or wherever it was that they were from._ For a brief second of sleep deprived insanity, Catherine imagined Sara walking down the aisle, Uncle Fester accompanying her as she made her way to the alter.

"That can easily be taken care of," the coordinator swooped in, grasping the edges of the material and tugging it from Sara's neck as Catherine fought the urge to laugh at her mental image. "You want it to be kind of like this, right?" The coordinator straightened out her sleeves so that the V was almost invisible.

"Yeah, but…I don't know. I don't really like the design of the sleeve," Sara conceded.

Catherine wanted to cry as Sara said this. This meant more searching and trying dresses on…more time cutting into her precious sleep that she wasn't getting enough of as it was. She suddenly felt her chest tightening, and Catherine had this incredible urge to get out of the building…and fast. The walls seemed to be closing in on her, and she needed some breathing room.

"I uh…I need some air real quick," Catherine stammered. "I'm sorry, it's just really…hot in here," she added lamely. "I'll be right back." Before any of the women could say anything, she fled from the bridal shop.

Catherine exited the shop, breathing heavily as she walked around the corner of the store, resting against the brick wall. She leaned over, placing her hands on her knees as she worked to control the hammering heart in her chest. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, relieved when air finally filled her lungs. She repeated the action over and over several times. When she was sure that her breathing was under control, Catherine opened her eyes and straightened up.

She nearly screamed when she saw Elizabeth standing in front of her, the dark haired woman having seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Catherine looked around her, wishing that she hadn't walked down the alley. While it was daylight, she couldn't help but feel a little nervous that there weren't any people around. There was something about the tall woman that freaked her out. Maybe it was her towering stature, or the fact that she looked like she had looked like she wanted to beat Catherine up the second they had met, but…Catherine was unnerved in the deserted alleyway with this woman.

"I'm sorry to have run out of there," Catherine finally spoke up, stammering slightly, willing her legs to stop shaking. _Damn it, what is wrong with me?! _Her mind screamed. _Why am I so freaked out by this woman?_ "I…I needed some air," she finished.

"You're jealous."

Catherine blinked, looking around at her surroundings. While seconds ago it had been essential in keeping her upright, she now hated the feeling of the wall pressed against her back. She felt…well, she felt trapped. For a brief moment, she flashbacked to Eddie, how he would corner her into the wall and then slap her across the face before throwing her to the ground and beating mercilessly on her. "I…excuse me?" Catherine managed to ask, putting on her best poker face as she glared at Elizabeth.

Involuntarily, she flinched slightly as Elizabeth moved even closer to her, effectively blocking any escape route that Catherine may have had, as slim as they were. "Don't think that Sara hasn't told me all about you," Elizabeth told Catherine. "I know that you're in love with Gil, and you better not ruin this for them!"

"What…what are you talking about?" Catherine was bewildered as to how a woman she had just met knew her feelings for Grissom. "I'm not…"

"Sara told me how you've always loved Gil, and how you two are chummy. She also told me how promiscuous you are and how you've slept your way to the top," Elizabeth said. "They've worked hard to be where they are now, after that crazy lady kidnapped Sara and that guy was killed."

Catherine felt her blood boiling, and she had to resist punching Elizabeth in the face, as satisfying as that would be. How dare this woman refer to Warrick as 'that guy'? "I…that's a lie," Catherine protested instead of allowing her emotions to flow over. "I have not slept my way to the top, and Sara would never say something like that!" She glared at Elizabeth, attempting to stand up to the taller woman. "And would you mind getting out of my face? You're crowding-"

Catherine was cut off as Elizabeth's hand shot out, her fist wrapping around Catherine's shirt. She yanked Catherine close and said, "Sara doesn't lie to me, bitch. You better stay away from Gil."

Catherine glared at Elizabeth, steadily becoming even more pissed off as the seconds passed. She was tired of being bullied around by this woman, and instinctively, she brought her hands up, using her nails to dig into Elizabeth's hand. The effect was immediate, as Elizabeth hissed in pain and she let go of Catherine's shirt before the blonde could drag her fingers down her hand. She didn't, however, move from in front of Catherine. "You stupid bitch-" Elizabeth started to yell.

"No, you listen to me," Catherine cut her off. "I don't know who you think you are, but Sara and I are friends! I care about her and Gil, and never would I attempt to break up their relationship. Besides, why the hell would she allow me to be in her wedding if she didn't like me?" Catherine asked.

Elizabeth laughed slightly, shaking her head. "Have you ever heard the saying, 'Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer'?" Elizabeth asked. Seeing realization finally dawn on Catherine's face, she smirked. "Watch your back, bitch," Elizabeth ended, shoving Catherine roughly against the brick wall before walking out of the alley.

Catherine glared after her, resisting the urge to jump on her back and take her down, catfight style. _I haven't been in a catfight since I was dancing at the French Palace, _Catherine thought. _Granted, I took the bitch down then, and could probably take this one down too – if I got a running start – but that's beside the point. _ Indignantly, she smoothed the wrinkles in her shirt that had formed thanks to Elizabeth's grasp, pushing herself off the wall with a sigh. The tightening in her chest came back with a vengeance, and for a brief moment she wondered if she was having a heart attack.

_No, _Catherine realized. _It was pure, unadulterated pain for a love that she knew could never…would never…happen._

She had to fight back a sob as she lifted her head to the sky, her blue eyes taking in the clear day as she fought to breathe. For a minute, she considered getting back in her Jeep and taking off, to just leave Sara and Gil and Queen Elizabeth and go about her life…alone. It had worked in the few months that Gil had been off in Costa Rica, and it would work for the rest of her life. Not that it would even work…Gil would be at her home, knocking on the door the second that Sara told him that Catherine had left the bridal shop without letting them know.

And anyway, Catherine Willows was not a runner. She didn't hide from her fears, nor did she run from threats. She couldn't help but think back to Adam Novak, the sleazy defense attorney that she had met in a bar so many years ago. He was a real jerk, and after he had been drug in for questioning in a murder, he had shown up at Catherine's house. She would never forget the feeling that had coursed through her veins when she saw the man standing on her sidewalk, talking nonchalantly to her mother and daughter. Catherine felt anger like she had never felt anger before as she stepped out of her SVU. It took all she had not to whip out her gun and shoot him right between the eyes. She supposed that she hadn't had time to be afraid then, hence the reason she was able to stay under control and not panic as she assessed Adam.

No…she faced her fears head on, fighting until the last possible moment. Not only had that strategy kept her sane in the past, it had also saved her life a few times. There was no way that she was going to hide from Grissom and Sara's wedding, as painful as it would be.

_Besides… _Catherine thought. _There's plenty of fish in the sea. I'm sure that there is someone out there for me who will treat me right, love me, and then one day marry me…_

_But they aren't Gil Grissom._

Catherine shook her head, breaking herself out of her juvenile thoughts. _For God's sake, Willows, get a grip. I'm not some horny teenager just entering puberty; I'm a God-damned grown woman! _

Sighing, she smoothed her shirt again, wondering briefly if there were any marks on the back of her shirt thanks to the brick wall she had been leaning…and shoved…against. Deciding that she didn't really care, she reluctantly made her way back to the store.

Catherine made her way back into the bridal shop, winding her way through the aisles of garments until she found the group she was looking for. She ignored Elizabeth's glare, smiling weakly when Sara looked at her.

"You okay, Cath?" Sara asked, taking in Catherine's pale, sweaty skin.

"I'm fine, Sara," Catherine answered. "I just needed to get some air. I was…ah, overheated."

Sara nodded skeptically, not believing what Catherine told her. She had worked with Catherine for years, and knew when the blonde was rattled about something. Instead of interrogating her, though, she turned in a circle, showing off the dress that she was wearing. "What do you think?" she asked Catherine. "I think I've found the perfect dress!"

_Oh, thank you Lord. _"It looks great, Sara," Catherine said honestly. And it did. It was a simple yet elegant dress. It wasn't fancy, yet it was classy enough to sweep a groom…namely Gilbert Grissom…off his feet. "I like it," Catherine added.

"Thanks," Sara said, smiling at her friend.

For a brief moment, Catherine wondered if it was a sincere smile or a victory smirk. Shaking her head slightly, Catherine rubbed her face. Her…encounter with Elizabeth had thrown her off, mentally and professionally. It was her job to be able to read people, to be able to separate fact from fiction, and right now she was just so confused. What Elizabeth had said to her back in the alley made sense, but…did she really want to believe someone who she had just met, versus someone she had worked with for over eight years? She certainly hoped that Sara hadn't asked her to be in her wedding just to keep an eye on her or to make sure that Catherine didn't try to pick up Grissom.

"This is great," Sara gushed. "It's such a relief to find my dress!"

"It's the perfect dress, too," Kristine replied softly. "You look wonderful."

Sara nodded her agreement, admiring her reflection in the mirror. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm exhausted," Sara said.

_Are you kidding me? _Catherine wanted to scream. _I'm the one who just got off work! _

"Oh, but Sara," Elizabeth said with a high falsetto that made Catherine want to gag, "We were hoping that you would want to look at bridesmaids dresses!"

_Okay, forget the juvenile tendencies, _Catherine thought. She was about to kill Elizabeth.

Before she could speak up, though, her phone rang. The group looked at her, and she glanced at the screen to see who was calling. Never did she think that she would be glad to see Conrad Ecklie's name pop up, but if it got her out of the stifling bridal shop, she'd be ready to thank him, even if it meant that she wasn't going to be able to sleep for a few more hours. "I'm sorry, I have to take this," Catherine said in an apologetic tone. She turned from the group before she could see the dirty looks Sara and Elizabeth were shooting her, flipping her phone open. "Willows," she answered.

"Hey, Catherine," Ecklie answered. "You sound like you're awake."

"I haven't been to sleep yet," she told him. "I was running a few errands. What's up?"

"Dayshift needs backup," Ecklie told her, sounding somewhat regretful about asking her. "If you want me to call Nick, I can-"

"No, no, it's my responsibility," Catherine interrupted him. "What do you have?"

"There was a murder outside of Lap Girls on 5th Avenue," Ecklie replied. "That's quite the name for a club-"

"I have to grab my camera from my office really fast, but give me about twenty minutes and I'll be there," Catherine interrupted him, not in the mood to have a philosophical discussion with Ecklie, especially over the name of a club.

"Thanks, Catherine," Ecklie responded. "See you back at the lab when you're finished."

Catherine hung up her phone without a goodbye, turning back to Sara, Elizabeth, and Kristine. "I'm sorry, guys, I just got called in to work," she explained, her words directed to Sara more than the other two. "Rain check on the dresses?"

"Of course," Sara answered, her voice tight. "I'll give you a call?"

"Sure," Catherine answered, looking at Kristine and Elizabeth. "Ladies, it was…" she trailed off, not sure what to say to the duo. While Kristine was smiling slightly at Catherine, Elizabeth looked as if she wanted to tackle the CSI into the plus sized dress rack and tear her to shreds. "It was nice meeting you," she finally finished. "I look forward to seeing you again." The last statement was directed more so at Kristine, but what else could she possibly say?

With a nod to Sara, she turned and headed out to her Jeep. She got in and started up her vehicle, sighing. While putting in even more overtime wasn't the ideal solution to escaping bridal dress shopping hell, it sure beat standing there in her private hell.

~/~

End Part 7/?


	8. Body

Hey, guys! Here's chapter 8. Thanks to all of you who have taken the time to review. I really do appreciate it, and it does help to get the chapters out quicker.

Again, this isn't beta'd. I'm trying my best to edit and all on my own, and I can only hope that I catch all my errors. Nevertheless, enjoy!

~/~

Catherine stared bleakly at her computer screen as she typed up the last few sentences of her current report. She briefly wondered how Nick, Riley, and Ray were doing at their crime scene. It was an incredibly slow night, and the only case they had at the moment was a triple murder-suicide, which she had assigned the trio to. Hodges was running traces in the lab, and Greg was working on evidence that had been collected at his latest scene.

Catherine glanced at the time on the corner of her computer, sighing when she saw that it was only one o'clock in the morning. Her shift was only one-eighth of the way through, and she was already tired. Not only that, but she had a court appearance at 9:00 AM in order to testify against James Cena, something that she was not looking forward to in the least.

Her office phone rang, and she picked it up. "Willows," she answered tiredly.

"You sound exhausted."

Catherine smiled to herself, leaning back in her chair as Grissom's voice filled her ear. "I'm never exhausted," Catherine answered back silkily.

Grissom voice was dry as he responded, "Uh huh, and I'm Santa Claus!"

"Well, you do have the beard…"

Grissom laughed, then asked seriously, "How are you, Catherine?"

"I'm doing okay, Gil. What's up?" Catherine answered, pulling her glasses off and setting them on her desk.

"Well…Sara hadn't heard from you in a few days and wondered what was going on," Gil said carefully.

"Translation: Sara's having a cow because of the fact that I haven't had a chance to get back to David's Bridal to try on the bridesmaid's dresses that they picked out," Catherine replied.

"Well, yes," Grissom admitted. "I personally think she's being silly-"

"No, Gil, it's my fault," Catherine interrupted. "I should have made some time to go to the bridal shop. I've just been really busy lately, and it keeps slipping my mind."

"Been busy?"

Catherine wanted to smile at the wistful tone in Grissom's voice. While she knew that he was happy to be gone from the hectic lifestyle, she knew that Gil did miss the mystery if the job somewhat. "Yeah, I have," Catherine admitted. "I have four solo open cases, and three partnered open cases. Not only that, but I have court dates today and Thursday. So yeah, I've been busy."

"What time is court tomorrow?" Gil asked warily.

"I'm scheduled to testify at 9:00," Catherine replied. "Why, what's up?"

"Well, I was calling because Sara wanted me to see if you wanted to go to breakfast with us and then go to the bridal store to try on the dress real quick," Gil told her. "But you're busy…"

"No, it's okay, Gil," Catherine said when she heard him trail off. "I'm hoping that I'm not on the stand for too long, so could we bump it back to lunch and then go to the bridal shop?" She felt bad; after all, she had been neglecting her duties as a bridesmaid thus far, and she knew that it pissed off Sara…and probably Elizabeth as well.

"You don't have to, Cath; I mean, I know how long of a day it can be when you have to work and then go to court. I don't want to hold you up from sleeping, because I know that you probably aren't getting enough as it is," Gil replied.

Catherine laughed dryly, then answered, "I'm sleeping fine, thank you."

Gil snorted, then asked, "What time did you go to bed yesterday?"

"Gil, what does this have to-"

"What time, Cath?"

She sighed, then replied, "Three."

"Mm hmm. And you woke up at…?"

Annoyed, Catherine answered, "Seven."

"Four hours, huh? Does that constitute as 'enough sleep' to you?"

"No, not really," Catherine responded. "But what the hell do you want me to do, Gil? A lack of sleep is something that is expected of the supervisor. It's part of my leadership among this group. It's something that you went through, and it's something that I will go through until I leave the lab. And besides, you can't talk," Catherine pointed out. "What are you still doing up? It's one in the morning. Don't normal people with normal jobs sleep at this time?"

Grissom chuckled, then asked, "Since when have I been normal?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Catherine asked. "And don't ignore my question!"

Grissom couldn't help but laugh. "I guess that I'm still on CSI time," he admitted.

"What time do you sleep?" Catherine asked.

"From about 3 AM until 8 AM, usually," Gil replied.

"Oh, five hours," Catherine scoffed. "Like that's a good amount of sleep! At least I have a reason for being an insomniac!"

"Oh, okay, you sure have me there!" Gil replied sarcastically, though his voice held a tinge of laughter. "I'm not the one who works about sixty-five to seventy hours a week, Ms. Workaholic!"

Catherine opened her mouth to retort, only to have the ringing of her cell phone on the desk interrupt her. She glanced at it, seeing Jim's name appearing on her ID. "Hang on, Gil, Brass is calling me," Catherine told him. Setting the phone down, she flipped open her cell phone. "Yeah, Brass?" she asked.

"Hey, Cath," Brass greeted her. "I need someone out to the Bellagio."

"What happened?" Catherine asked, scribbling down the name of the hotel on a notepad.

"We have a dead body," Brass told her. "Female."

"Where in the hotel are you?" Catherine asked.

"Room 1008," Brass answered.

"Okay, I'm on my way," Catherine said.

"ETA?"

"About twenty minutes or so," Catherine replied. "See you soon."

She hung up the phone, picking up her office phone as she began shutting her computer down. "Hey, Gil," she began as she saved the report she was so close to finishing.

"You have to go?" he asked somewhat sympathetically.

"I…yeah," Catherine answered. "Should I call you after court?"

"Look, Cath…you don't have to go to the bridal shop today," Gil said hastily. "I didn't realize that you were going to be in court…"

"It's fine, Gil," Catherine said with a laugh, opening her desk drawer and grabbing her keys. "Look, I'll give you a call when I'm done, okay?"

"Okay," Gil said skeptically. "Good luck with the case."

"Thanks, Gil. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Catherine."

Catherine hung up the office phone, clipping her cell phone to her waist band at the same time. She made sure that her CSI badge was on her belt, and then grabbed her kit and camera. Catherine made her way from her office, poking her head into the evidence room that Greg was occupying. "Hey, Greggo," she called. Greg looked up at her, and she continued, "I caught a case at the Bellagio. Give me a call if you need anything?"

"Sure," Greg answered absently, turning his attention back to the photographs that were spread out on the table.

Catherine smiled to herself as she left the building. It had been about a month and a half since Greg and Hodges's suspensions, and she had to hand it to Greg; the former 'lab rat' was working harder than ever, and was determined to be one of the best crime scene investigators that he could be for Catherine. If anyone rivaled Catherine's long, dedicated hours, it was Greg. There were days when Greg left shortly before Catherine, and then there were times when Catherine was shuffling out of the office and Greg was still going over evidence. It was a huge change from the Greg that Catherine had first met nine years ago, the same Greg that had been caught by Catherine and Grissom rocking out to Marilyn Manson's 'Fight Song' in the lab.

Catherine made her way out of the building, her eyes instinctively sweeping over the parking lot. It was something that she had done for several years now, way before Sara had been kidnapped by Natalie Davis. In fact, it all started when she had been attacked herself…

_Catherine walked through the house, dusting various surfaces in hopes of finding fingerprints that would connect her to the killer of the man who was laying in a pool of his own blood just feet away. She moved to a screen, glancing down at her fingertips, flicking some of the powder off her fingers._

_Something wasn't right…_

_Catherine looked up, letting out a small grunt mixed with a slight scream when the door burst open, a man forcing himself against her. He pushed against her, and Catherine let go of the fingerprint powder instinctively, fighting back as hard as she could. Nevertheless, the larger man forced her into the wall, his arm snaking up in front of her chest in an obvious attempt to choke her._

"_Suspect on location!" Catherine yelled. "Suspect on location!" Her voice was filled with panic and determination, her survival skills automatically kicking in, giving her the will to fight back. She instinctively brought her elbow backwards as hard as she could, feeling a slight glimmer of hope and pride as she felt her elbow strike the man in the face. _

_She struggled to turn, her hand automatically coming up to block the hand that she saw coming toward her face. Catherine grappled with the man for a few long seconds, only to fall backwards with a cry when she felt his fist connect with the top of her head. _

_She fell on her side, preparing herself for a further onslaught; instead, the man took off, and it took Catherine a second to realize why. "He went out back," Catherine breathlessly said with a soft moan to the officers who had ran back in the room when they heard her frantic shout moments ago. "He went out back," she repeated, more so to assure herself that she was okay. _

"_Cath, are you all right?!" she heard Warrick's frantic tone before she saw him, glancing up as she felt his hand land on her lower back. _

_Catherine glanced up at her colleague, finally meeting his worried gaze. "I'm all right," she answered, her voice soft and shaky. _

_She watched as Warrick took off, Catherine finally realizing where she had landed after the suspect struck her. Catherine glanced at the body that was in such close proximity to hers, slowly sitting up as she examined the blood that covered her pants and shirt. Dazed, she looked up at her surroundings, feeling blood trickling down her forehead. She briefly wondered how bad the wound was, only to have her focus turned back to Warrick and Officer Akers, who had reentered the house. _

"_He must have gotten out the back," Catherine heard Warrick say. She watched as Warrick appeared thoughtful, then rounded on Officer Akers. "Were you the first officer on scene?" he asked angrily. At Akers' nod, Warrick berated, "When you clear a place, you clear it, do you understand?!" Akers began to stammer an apology, only to have Warrick cut him off. "We lost a CSI two years ago because of the same mistake!" _

_Catherine knew that Warrick was livid, but she couldn't allow him to continue his tirade. "Warrick, ease up," she finally spoke up. "My fault. I sent him out."_

_Catherine's soothing tones appeared to have the desired effect on Warrick. With an angry order to call for backup, he turned to Catherine, his attention on his colleague and friend. "Hey," he said softly._

"_Hey," Catherine answered, a little weepy as the magnitude of the incident weighed down on her. _

"_You okay?" Warrick asked sympathetically, eyeing the impressive abrasion on her forehead. _

"_Yeah, I'm all right." They both knew it was a lie: that Catherine was injured and frightened, but Warrick didn't push. Instead, he reached a hand up, his fingers looking to brush her hair away from her face so that Warrick could get a better look at her head. His hand stilled when Catherine spoke up. "Don't touch me," she said sharply. Seeing Warrick's confused and somewhat hurt look, she gestured to her blood spattered clothing and hands and continued, "I'm evidence."_

Catherine sighed, her hands shaking slightly as she opened the trunk of her Tahoe, throwing her kit in the backseat as she remembered the attack. Her fingers found the slight scar on her forehead, and for a moment, Catherine feared that she was going to cry. As hardened as she was, the attack had left her skittish for several months and there were still times when she froze up even six years later, afraid that someone was going to burst from behind a screen or a door or a tree and attack her. Catherine could almost feel Warrick's presence next to her, his hand on her back as he made sure that she was okay.

Slamming the trunk lid, Catherine placed a hand against the cool glass, tilting her head toward the skies. "I miss you, Warrick," she said softly, sniffling as she felt a tear trickle down her cheek.

"Hey," Catherine heard a voice call, and she jumped. She whirled around, hastily wiping her eyes as she saw Ray making his way over to her. "You okay?" Ray asked, seeing her red eyes.

"I…yeah…just allergies," Catherine explained lamely, adding a sniffle for effect before changing the subject to get the focus off her. "How'd your case go?"

"It's…quite the case," Ray said with a shake of his head. "It's going to take a lot of work to sort through the evidence."

Catherine smiled briefly at Ray. "Well, you have plenty of time left in your shift to sort through the evidence," she told her newest CSI.

"Where are you off to?" Ray asked.

"Bellagio. There was a murder," Catherine told him.

"You need a hand?" Ray offered, eager to assist in any way possible.

"I appreciate the offer," Catherine answered. "It's just one body, though. I'm going to go solo on this one. Thank you, though."

Ray nodded then said, "You're welcome. I'll see you soon, right?"

"Of course," Catherine answered with a wink. With a wave to Riley and Nick, she pulled herself up into the Tahoe, and took off to her crime scene.

~/~

"You're late," Brass informed Catherine as she made her way to the hotel room, ducking under the crime scene tape after flashing her badge at the officer guarding the scene.

With a sniff, she glanced at her watch. "Five minutes," she scoffed.

"You're still late," Brass said with a shrug.

Catherine rolled her eyes, shifting her heavy bag so that it wasn't pressing directly down on her shoulder. "Are you going to lecture me about punctuality or are you going to show me to the body?" Catherine asked, unable to keep the annoyed tone out of her voice momentarily.

Brass raised an eyebrow at her tone, choosing not to comment any further. "She's in here," Brass said, leading Catherine into the bathroom of the hotel.

Catherine stared down at the body, momentarily stunned. Her hands shook as she took in the sight before her. The victim looked almost exactly like Jane Smelders, and her arms were positioned in nearly the same way that James Cena's victim was. "Jim," Catherine managed to call as she backed out of the bathroom. "_Jim!_"

"What, what's wrong?!" Brass asked, alarmed as he made his way back to Catherine. "Catherine, talk to me!" he ordered, his hands on her shoulders as she fought down the panic attack that was threatening to surface.

"I…you need to call the prison where James Cena is," Catherine stammered. "She…she looks just like Jane Smelders, and that's the way her body was positioned. I…I think that Cena did this!"

Jim glanced from the body to Catherine's ashen face, pulling out his cell phone without a second thought. Catherine exited the room, moving to the stuffy hallway in an attempt to regain her bearings. She took a deep breath, placing her hands on her knees in order to try to fight the threatening nausea down.

Several minutes later, Jim exited the hotel room, making his way over to Catherine. "James Cena is in his cell, sleeping, and hasn't left the prison for the last six weeks," Brass informed Catherine without preamble.

"What…what about an…an accomplice?" Catherine stammered. She stood up straight even though her knees were threatening to give out at any moment.

"Cena hasn't been in contact with anyone except for his lawyer for over a month," Jim told Catherine.

She blinked slowly, her gaze not meeting Jim's. "I…I know that this is a message for me," Catherine told Brass. "I know that that body was meant for me!"

"Catherine…" Brass trailed off with a sigh, unsure of what to say.

"Damn it, Brass, I'm going to testify against Cena in about seven hours. You can't tell me that this isn't a message for me!" Catherine exclaimed.

"Catherine…it's probably just a coincidence," Brass told her. "You're under a lot of stress at the moment, and you're probably looking into this more than nec-"

Catherine cut him off. "I am not looking into this more than necessary!" she hissed angrily. "Damn it, Brass, she looks EXACTLY like Cena's victim! She's positioned in the SAME way! The only thing missing is her wallet laying next to her with a print on it!"

Brass blinked, placing two fingers against his temple as he spoke, "Willows, I called Stokes."

Catherine was slightly taken aback at his statement, but she covered it up as she angrily asked, "You did WHAT?"

"I called Stokes and told him to come to the scene," Brass told her evenly.

"Why?!" Catherine asked.

"Because when I saw your face when you saw that victim, I knew that you wouldn't be able to remain objective over this!" Brass snapped. "You're mind is solely on James Cena at the moment, and I know that you aren't going to be focused on her!" he added, jabbing his thumb back towards the hotel room. "Don't make me call Ecklie over this!"

Catherine stared dumbfounded at Brass, shocked that he would actually go over her head. "You son of a bitch," Catherine growled. "How dare you!"

Brass swallowed, his anger leaving him temporarily as he caught the hurt look in Catherine's eyes. "Catherine…I'm doing this for you-" he started, only to be cut off by Catherine again.

"You're not doing this for me, so cut the bullshit, Brass," Catherine snarled. "You're only watching out for yourself!"

With that, Catherine turned on her heel, her bag bumping against her leg as she angrily ducked under the crime scene tape, leaving the crime scene in a huff.

~/~

Catherine sat in her Tahoe, overlooking the city from a hill that she had parked atop about an hour ago. It never ceased to amaze her that the city always seemed to be awake, the lights making swirling patterns that were almost hypnotizing while the noise had faded.

She and Lindsay had discovered this spot a few years back, and it seemed to be one of the best places to go if one needed to think. In fact, she had even shared the spot with Gil a few years back when Sara had left him the first time. She knew that he had come here for hours on end, trying to figure why the love of his life would have left him.

_Thinking, thinking…Yup, that's what I'm doing._

She had had the presence of mind to at least call in to dispatch to let them know that she would be out of the office and to call her if they needed her, but so far, nothing. Sighing, she lay her head against the steering wheel, closing her eyes briefly.

_What the hell am I doing here?_

And 'here' wasn't even on top of some random hill in the desert in the wee hours of the morning…'Here' was this point in her life. She was almost fifty years old, alone, and about to lose the one person who she knew loved her…to a college across the United States. The only thing she had at the moment was her job, and that seemed to be falling apart. While she could understand Jim's concern, how dare he pull her off a case? He _wasn't _her boss. He had no control over her.

With a sigh, Catherine wondered if it was even worth it to be brooding. She had tons of paperwork to catch up on, as well as her own cases to deal with. She wondered if it was even worth it. No matter how much she struggled to keep up with her cases and paperwork and supervisor duties, it never seemed to be enough.

_Was it even worth it?_

For a brief moment, she considered calling Ecklie and telling him that she was finished, that she was done fighting crime for the state of Nevada. The thought lingered, but then she thought to Gil…

_Would he approve of that? Would he approve of her quitting and leaving Ray, Riley, Greg, Nicky, and Hodges to fend for themselves without a leader?_

No.

Catherine sighed and rolled her neck…

…And promptly screamed when she saw a face looking through her window at her, a hand raised to tap on the glass.

To his credit, Grissom managed to keep calm despite the fact Catherine's scream had startled him. Catherine closed her eyes briefly, willing away the headache as she pressed the button to roll down her window. "What are you doing here?" she asked Gil.

"I heard that the view of Vegas is great from here," Gil told her lamely.

"So which one called you? Nicky or Brass?" Catherine questioned him after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

"Nicky." Grissom couldn't lie.

"How'd you know that I would be here?"

"I just…I knew, Cath. You told me years ago about this spot, and somehow I knew that you'd be here."

Catherine nodded, sighing as she turned her attention back to the lights in front of her. "Why would Brass take me off a case? Can he even do that?" she asked Gil.

"I…I don't know, Catherine," Gil admitted. "I think that he's worried about you."

"Why?" Catherine asked, confused.

"Cath…" Gil trailed off, unsure of how to continue. "They all worry about you. I do, too."

Catherine brought her eyes to his face, the dark light casting a shadow over his face. She let out a puff of air, moving to open her door. Gil stepped back, giving her space to open the door as Catherine slid out of her seat. She shut the door and walked to the front of the car, leaning against the hood, not looking at Gil as he mimicked her actions. "Why do you worry about me?" she finally asked.

Grissom searched her face, noting the tired lines that formed at her eyes, the slight bags that formed. "I worry about everyone in that office," Grissom finally stated. "It's a hard job that takes its toll on you. I mean, look at Sara…" Catherine scowled at the mention of his fiancé, but nevertheless, Gil continued, "She couldn't do it anymore. I don't want you to get to that point…or even the point that I was at, Cath."

"Gil, you're the strongest person I know-" Catherine started to say, only to be cut off by Gil.

"This isn't about me, Cath," he pointed out gently. "I can't help that I care about you, and that I don't want to see you get hurt."

Catherine smiled weakly at Gil. "I'm fine," she told him. "It's a hectic lifestyle, but I think that I'm so used to the lack of sleep and everything that it doesn't bother me anymore. I mean…I appreciate the concern and all, but…I'm fine, Gil."

_But am I?_

Grissom looked as if he wanted to challenge Catherine, but instead, he stood there quietly, watching his friend as she refused to meet his eyes, choosing instead to continue to keep her gaze steady on the city below. Hesitantly, he reached an arm around Catherine, resting his hand on her shoulder as he pulled her closer to him.

That was all it took for the dam to break, and Catherine sniffled as she buried her face into Gil's chest, crying softly as she felt Gil wrap his arms around her. She stayed there for several long minutes, simply taking in his scent and comforting motions of his hand rubbing her back before pulling away, her eyes red rimmed as she met his.

Gil kept his arm around her shoulder, meeting her gaze with concern and worry. Catherine accepted the silent invitation to rest her head on his chest, lying her head down as she closed her eyes, attempting to regain her bearings. "Are you going to tell me what's really wrong, Catherine?" Gil asked softly.

"I don't know what you mean, Gil," Catherine answered hoarsely.

"Hey…" Gil squeezed her shoulder gently. "I know you, Cath, and I know that you wouldn't do something purposely to get yourself taken off a case. What happened back there with Jim?"

Catherine sighed, moving her head from Gil's shoulder. She scuffed her toes against the dirt road. Finally, she spoke up. "The dead body I was looking at looked exactly like the victim of the suspect I am testifying against today. Not only that, she was positioned in the same way…"

"Did you have Brass find out where this murderer was?" Grissom's tone was obviously concerned, but, like always, he looked at the whole picture.

"Well, yes," Catherine admitted. "He's in lock up and hasn't had any contact with anyone except his lawyer. But I know he had something to do with it." She could feel Grissom looking at her, and she rolled her eyes, glaring at him when she sensed his skepticism. She shrugged his arm off her shoulder and spat, "I know that it's a message for me Gil, to not testify against him!"

"Cath…how can a man in prison who hasn't had any contact with the outside world kill someone and then position their body?" Gil questioned. "Do you remember what I've taught you? Follow-"

"-the evidence. Yeah, I know, Gil," Catherine finished crabbily. "It just seems too convenient that it happened the night before I'm supposed to testify against Cena."

Grissom nodded, cautiously wrapping an arm around Catherine again, relieved when she didn't pull away. She laid her head on his shoulder again, closing her eyes. "It'll be okay, Cath," Gil soothed softly.

Catherine sniffled, hating that the tears so easily welled up in her eyes again. She brushed a hand across her eyes, willing the tears away. "Gil…" she started, only to stop her train of thought.

"What's up, Cath?" Gil prodded gently, resting his head on top of hers. She shivered slightly, and Gil wrapped his other arm around her in an attempt to keep her warm in the chilly air.

"Would you…" she paused, thinking of how to word her request. "Would you mind coming to court in the morning?" she finally continued. "I don't…I don't want to face him alone."

Gil was surprised at her request, but nevertheless he kept in his shock. "Of course not, Catherine," he replied. "I'd be happy to."

"I just…" she sighed. "I just need someone there for me."

"I can understand that," Grissom said, squeezing her shoulder again. "I'll tell you what: I'll have Sara come with me, and after you get done we can do lunch and the bridal shop thing. How does that sound?"

Catherine nodded, closing her eyes briefly. She felt somewhat better knowing that Gil…and Sara…would be there to support her.

However, she still had a nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong.

~/~

End Part 8/?

I have a quick question…the flashbacks to actual episodes aren't distracting you or taking away from the flow of the story, are they? I think that I only have one or two more planned throughout the story, but let me know!


	9. Bind

As usual, the same disclaimers apply. However, here's a couple more notes. First of all, this isn't beta'd, so I am responsible for all mistakes. As many times as I've looked over this, though, there best not be any! Lol Also, I'm not a lawyer. I've watched Law and Order and CSI for years, but I'm not that adapt to the courtroom procedures and all, so I apologize of those scenes are a little off. **In addition, there's some violence/bad language in this chapter. Nothing too serious, at least in my humble opinion, but if that type of stuff makes you squeamish/nervous, turn back now. **

You guys asked for Grillows, and here it really begins. Actually, I thought that Grillows started last chapter, but this is where it really picks up as per my crazy outline of the story. Let me just say that this chapter was one of the hardest I've ever written out of any of my stories. Believe me when I've said that I've tweaked, retweaked, and tweaked this chapter numerous times. I've spent many, many hours on this, and I'm very satisfied with the results, and hope that you are too. Please R&R, as if there is any chapter that I'd like feedback on, it's this one. Thanks so much for the positive feedback in the last chapter, too. You guys seriously rule.

~/~

_Courtrooms sucked. _

That was the sole thought running through Catherine's mind as she sat in the uncomfortable seat next to the judge, patiently answering question after question that the district attorney had asked. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the district attorney said, "Thank you, Ms. Willows. No further questions."

Catherine had to resist rolling her eyes as the district attorney sat down and Adam Novak stood up, the latter smirking slightly as their eyes met. Instead of rolling her eyes, though, she narrowed them, glowering at Novak in a warning not to mess with her. Of all the lowly, crappy things that he had done to her in the past, representing James Cena was probably the worst thing that Novak could have come up with to top those particular moments. When she had first heard that Novak was representing Cena, she had simply rolled her eyes. Catherine knew that he was looking forward to this opportunity, especially after she had gotten Jay Finch convicted the last time that they butted heads…after he had already successfully defended him once.

At first she had wondered how Novak had come across Cena, but…people talked. And Catherine was sure that Novak had heard among the rumor mill that James Cena had a huge issue with Catherine Willows, and when it came to huge issues with the CSI, Adam Novak was the forerunner. He couldn't have anyone be a bigger pain in the ass then he was. After all, Novak was the thorn in her side, the pimple that appeared on prom night. Novak just wouldn't go away and would always pop up when she least wanted him. She could only imagine how quickly Novak had rushed to the prison in order to find Cena and offer his services when he had heard that he had had a few run ins with Catherine.

Catherine glanced over the crowd in the courtroom briefly, her eyes searching for Gil. There weren't that many people in the courtroom. The judge was there, of course, as well as the court clerk to type up transcripts of the trial. In addition, there were three bailiffs. One was standing by Cena, the second was standing by the judge, and the third was standing by the jury. The jury consisted of twelve assorted men and women who were sitting to her left as they quietly waited for Adam Novak to begin questioning Catherine.

The mother, father, and sister of Jane Smelders were seated near the front of the sparse crowd, directly behind the district attorney. They sat huddled together, their eyes on Catherine as they anxiously waited for Novak to begin questioning Catherine in order to come one step closer to gaining justice for their daughter. Every once in awhile, Jane's father would glare at Cena, but other than that, the trio kept their gazes locked on Catherine. Behind them sat Gil and Sara. Catherine brought her gaze to Sara, and the brunette smiled tightly at Catherine. Catherine flinched slightly, knowing in her heart that this was the last place that Sara wanted to be, but had agreed to come for Gil's sake…_not hers._ She glanced at Gil, not surprised to see her friend looking back at her intensely, an encouraging smile forming on his lips as she prepared to go yet another round with Adam Novak. Her eyes trailed to the rest of the courtroom, noting that there were maybe ten people that she didn't know who were scattered throughout the benches. Catherine briefly wondered why they were in the courtroom, but she didn't have much time to ponder when Novak's voice filled the room.

"CSI Three Willows," Novak finally began after what seemed like an eternity, his lips curling up in that false smile that Catherine had become accustomed to over the last few years when she drew her attention to him. "_Supervisor _Willows," he corrected himself, drawing out her title. "First of all, let me congratulate you on your recent promotion. If anyone deserves it, it's you." Catherine refused to acknowledge the statement, knowing that he was attempting to antagonize her: that he was trying to get her off her game. Instead, she waited quietly for his first question. "You testified that you first came across James Cena during an interrogation, is that correct?" Novak finally asked, visible disappointment on his face when she refused to take the bait.

"That's right," Catherine kept her reply short and to the point, not wanting to get into yet another verbal sparring match with Novak. Lord only knew what number match they were up to anyways, given their history.

"What did you discuss with Mr. Cena?" Novak asked.

"Mr. Cena was initially brought in for interrogation in order to discuss evidence that was found at the crime scene," Catherine replied stiffly.

"What evidence was that?"

"We found a wallet at the crime scene belonging to the victim, Jane Smelders," Catherine answered. "Mr. Cena's fingerprint was on that wallet."

"What did Mr. Cena say in regards to his print being on the wallet?" Novak asked.

"He said that she dropped the wallet in a bar, and that he picked it up for her."

Novak smirked, and Catherine had to fight the shudder that ran through her body. "And you do not believe that's why his fingerprints were on the wallet," he clarified.

"No."

"Why not?" Novak questioned. "It's a perfectly reasonable explanation."

"When someone picks up something, they curve their hands around the item," Catherine held up her hand, curling her fingers to demonstrate what she meant as she spoke. "If Mr. Cena would have picked up Ms. Smelder's wallet, then there would have been four prints belonging to him on the underside of the wallet."

"How could his print have ended up on the wallet, then?"

"Objection," the district attorney called. "Calls for speculation. Ms. Willows was not there when the crime took place; therefore, she cannot determine how his print wound up on Ms. Smelders' wallet."

"Sustained," the judge agreed. "Mr. Novak, do you wish to rephrase the question?"

"Withdrawn," Novak answered the judge. "What happened after Mr. Cena told you how his fingerprints ended up on the wallet?" Novak questioned Catherine.

"Mr. Cena said something that contradicted himself, and when he was called on it, he flipped out."

"How did Mr. Cena contradict himself?"

"When shown a picture of the victim a second time, he stated that he had never seen Ms. Smelders before in his life," Catherine stated. "This was after he identified her as the person whose wallet he picked up in the bar."

"What happened next?"

"When I pointed this out to Mr. Cena, he snapped and flipped over the table while screaming expletives and threats at me."

"What type of expletives and threats?"

"He called me a bitch, and said that he was going to get me."

"Was this your only interaction with Mr. Cena?"

"No, it was not."

"Can you please describe to me your next interaction?"

Catherine nodded, glancing over the courtroom yet again. "About two hours later, I received a call from my boss that Mr. Cena wanted to speak to me in regards to what had happened earlier in the interrogation. I went into the interrogation room and told Mr. Cena that in order to clear his name from the murder of Jane Smelders, all he would have to do was give a DNA sample."

"What was Mr. Cena's reaction?"

"He claimed that he would be framed if he were to do that."

"Is this a normal reaction?"

"For a guilty man, yes," Catherine answered.

"Objection, your honor," Novak said, not taking his eyes off Catherine. "My client's guilt has not been proven."

"Sustained," the judge said. "Ms. Willows, would you rephrase your answer?"

"Yes, it is a normal reaction for someone who has been accused of a crime," Catherine restated.

"What happened next?" Novak encouraged Catherine.

"Mr. Cena threatened me again, and when told that threatening an officer of the law was a felony, he became hostile and spit in my face." Catherine shivered slightly as she said this, resisting the urge to swat at her face where his saliva had been.

"Ms. Willow, when you interrogated Mr. Cena, were you alone?"

"Yes."

"Was he restrained?"

"Yes."

"In what manner was he restrained?"

"His hands were handcuffed to the table."

"Why was he restrained?"

Catherine shifted slightly in her chair, her eyes unwillingly trailing over to where James Cena sat. The burly man was glaring at her, and she suppressed a shudder, bringing her gaze back to Novak. _Not that that's much better…_ Catherine thought to herself.

"Ms. Willows?" the judge prompted Catherine patiently. "Please answer the question."

Catherine nodded to the judge, then said, "As I stated before, Mr. Cena threatened me. After a couple of hours, he wanted to speak to me again, and it was under my terms that I would only speak to him again if he were restrained."

"Why would you want him restrained, though?" Novak questioned again.

Catherine blushed slightly when she realized that she had unintentionally dodged his question. She hoped that the members of the jury didn't notice or look too much into it as she quickly noted, "For my safety. In case you didn't notice, Mr. Cena is about twice my size, and I wasn't about to attempt to find out what could happen in the interrogation if I were in there alone with a hostile suspect. After all, he had attempted to attack me once before with a LVPD detective and CSI in the room, and I wasn't about to press my luck if I were to be alone."

Novak nodded, then asked, "Ms. Willows, why would you go back to the interrogation if Mr. Cena had threatened you before, knowing that this was a hostile suspect?"

"It was something that I needed to do personally in order to combat fear," Catherine answered truthfully.

"What do you mean, Ms. Willows?"

Catherine swallowed, her eyes finding Sara's before she spoke. She wasn't even sure why…maybe it was because she felt that as a woman, Sara would understand where Catherine was coming from. However, Sara's gaze was blank, and she averted her eyes when she saw Catherine looking at her. Catherine briefly closed her eyes, then said, "In my line of work, I come across hostile males all the time. I've been threatened before…attacked, even, and this shook me. If I were to not have faced Mr. Cena right then and there, then I would have been scared to face the next hostile witness that I came across."

Novak nodded, smiling to himself as he went in for the kill. "So, this isn't _another_," he emphasized the word, "Case of you targeting an innocent man to satisfy your dislike for males?"

Catherine knew that he would bring up their history in court, but she was still shocked to hear it come from the man so abruptly. She heard murmurs in the courtroom mixed with the district attorney's protest of an objection and the judge's call to order. However, one voice rang above the rest, as Adam Novak stepped back, his hands in the air. "No further questions."

The district attorney shot out of her seat as Novak sat down, prepared to do damage control. "Redirect, your honor?" At the judge's nod, she continued. "Ms. Willows, would you tell the members of the court what Mr. Novak is referring to?" she asked Catherine.

Catherine couldn't help but make eye contact with Gil as the district attorney spoke to her. He nodded slightly, encouraging her wordlessly. She nodded briefly in return as she began speaking. "Approximately three years ago, Mr. Novak was a suspect in the murder of a woman who went to a nightclub," Catherine said. "I had a brief interaction with him before the woman wound up dead, and when I turned down his advances, Mr. Novak became violent."

"Can you please define violent?"

Catherine swallowed, refusing to look in the direction of Novak or Cena, not wanting to see their pleased reactions as she was picked apart in court. It wasn't even as if Novak was the one picking her apart, either. He had created a situation where the district attorney had to clean up his mess, and Catherine could only imagine how satisfied Novak was about that. She worked to keep her voice level as she responded, "Mr. Novak and I were kissing in the parking lot of the bar that we had met at while we were both off duty, and when I broke off the kiss, he held my door shut so that I could not get into the car. I told him to go to hell, and he released the door suddenly and it hit me in the face."

"What happened as a result?"

"I suffered a bruise and cut under my eye."

The district attorney nodded, facing the jury as she asked, "Ms. Willows, do you hate men?"

"No," Catherine answered clearly.

"Do you have some sort of plot to get revenge on Mr. Novak?"

"No."

"What about Mr. Cena?"

"Absolutely not," Catherine answered. "My job is to collect evidence in order to convict suspects of crimes, whether they are male or female."

The district attorney nodded, satisfied with her damage control. "No further questions," she told the judge.

The judge nodded before glancing at Adam Novak, warning in her eyes as she looked over the sleazy defense attorney. "No further questions," Novak called out almost lazily. While the district attorney had done a decent job of cleaning up the mess that he had made, there was still the notion in the minds of the court that perhaps Catherine had something to gain in getting revenge on him. His job was done…so far.

"Thank you, Ms. Willows, that's all," the judge told Catherine.

With a nod, Catherine stepped off the witness stand, intent on getting out of the courtroom as quickly as possible. After a grueling morning on the witness stand, the last thing that she wanted to do was go out dress shopping. She wanted to go home, make a stiff drink, and go to bed. But….a promise was a promise, and she could only hope that this wouldn't take all day like her last dress shopping escapade with Sara…well, that and that Elizabeth wouldn't be there. God, she hated that bitch.

Catherine didn't want to make eye contact as she walked past Cena and Novak, but she couldn't help it. What happened next happened so quickly that she wasn't even sure how it had happened. As their eyes locked, something snapped in Cena. With a roar, he shoved Adam Novak out of his chair, the smaller man falling to the ground, scrambling on his hands and knees as he attempted to move away. The bailiff moved in to attempt to restrain the huge man, only to be shoved away while having his gun snatched out of his holster in one swift movement.

Catherine stood frozen as Cena easily shoved the table out of the way, reaching the strawberry blonde in two long strides. She winced as he roughly grabbed her arm with his free hand, yanking her to his chest. Her back thudded against his chest, and he moved his arm so that it was across her throat, trapping her. Catherine cringed as she sensed the arm holding the bailiff's gun raise. She braced herself for the feeling of the bullet ripping into her skin, but it didn't come.

Her ears rang as Cena pulled off two shots, the perfectly placed bullets hitting the two other bailiffs in the chests. They both fell backwards, landing on the hard floor and not moving as the members of the courtroom scattered, everyone ducking for cover behind benches, desks, or whatever they felt could protect them from a hail of gunfire. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the judge duck down behind the safety of her podium…well, as safe as the wooden podium might be from a hail of gunfire. She was roughly turned around as Cena pointed the gun at the third bailiff, the one that he had disarmed, and shot him as he attempted to recover from being shoved away so easily, the bullet tearing through his right bicep. The bailiff fell to the ground with a cry, his hand instantly coming up to attempt to stop the flow of blood.

"NOBODY MOVE!" Cena yelled, the gun coming up to Catherine's temple as he swiftly turned back to face the members of the court. "IF ANYONE MOVES, I'LL BLOW HER BRAINS OUT!"

The members of the courtroom simultaneously froze as Cena held Catherine against his chest. She could see the two dead bailiffs out of the corner of her eye, as well as the panicked jury. Adam Novak was leaning against the wooden wall behind his table, his papers scattered about the floor as he looked wildly at Catherine, guilt creeping into his eyes. Jane's family ducked beneath the benches, all gripping each other's hands as they cried in fear. No one seemed to be injured, and her breath caught in her throat as somehow, in the chaos, her eyes sought out Gil's.

For a long moment, there was no one else in the room except for the two of them. Their gazes told each other so much.

_Please, Gil, take care of Lindsay for me…_

_Catherine, hang in there, I'm going to get you out of this…_

_I'm sorry I never told you I loved you before…_

_You're gonna be fine…_

Cena's expletive filled tirade at a jury member who had shifted his position brought Gil and Catherine out of their stupors. "Look, James, it's me that you want, just let them all go," Catherine's voice was shaky, and she was terrified at the prospect of being left alone with this maniac, but the last thing that she wanted was for an innocent civilian to get hurt.

For Gil to be hurt.

"Shut up!" he yelled, tightening his grip on her throat. Catherine winced slightly, her breathing somewhat wheezy as she felt her air becoming restricted. She brought her hands up, trying to relieve some of the pressure on her throat as she desperately tugged on his arm. "You don't talk unless I tell you to! That's your problem! This is your fault!" Cena babbled.

Catherine remained silent as Grissom slowly stood, her eyes wide when she noticed him moving and Cena didn't. "Gil, what the hell are you doing?!" Sara hissed, almost inaudibly. She was currently in a half crouched position, and she currently couldn't see Catherine from her position. She grabbed Gil's hand, only to be shocked when Gil shook her off roughly, his focus on Catherine.

"DON'T MOVE!" Cena screamed at Gil when he saw the older man moving. Cena began backing up, dragging Catherine with him. She struggled to move her feet at the same rhythm as Cena's, cursing the height difference between the two. Cena had a good foot of height on Catherine, and had his arm at an upward angle, the crook of his elbow inadvertently…or maybe it was on purpose…cutting off Catherine's air supply. In order to not choke, Catherine was on her tiptoes in an attempt to relieve some of the tension on her throat.

"Gil, please!" Sara pleaded softly. "Don't get yourself killed!"

"Look, sir…I mean no trouble," Gil ignored Sara and spoke, holding his hands up slowly to show that he was unarmed. "I just…"

"I don't care!" Cena yelled. "Sit down, and shut up!"

"Please, sir. Just…hear me out, okay?" Cena didn't reply, so Gil continued. "Security has undoubtedly heard the gunshots, and they are probably on their way right now to investigate," Gil said calmly. "The best thing that you can do right now is let CSI Willows go, and to let the members of the courtroom go."

"I'm not letting this bitch go," Cena snarled. "In fact, the only thing I'm going to do to her is kill her!"

Catherine heard the members of the court gasp as Cena released the safety on the gun. She closed her eyes, shuddering as she felt the gun pressed to her temple, knowing that the slightest movement of Cena's finger would send a bullet into her brain.

"Please, Mr. Cena. I know that you do not want to hurt her," Gil attempted to negotiate. "Just let her go, and we can work this out."

"We?" Cena scoffed, shaking his head. "There is no 'we' in this, buddy! It's me and this bitch here who ruined my life!"

Catherine forced her eyes open, tears brimming as she searched Gil's face. He didn't make eye contact with her as he talked to Cena in a soft, soothing tone. _Basic hostage negotiation, _Catherine realized. It had been yet another seminar she, Gil, and the dayshift supervisor had been forced to partake in, and until now, no one had been forced to call upon what they learned that day. In a way, Catherine was glad Gil didn't look at her. If he would have, Catherine probably would have lost it, causing trouble for everyone in the room. "Mr. Cena…" Gil started, only to slam his eyes shut when the doors of the courtroom flew open.

Shouts mixed with screams and yells as police officers flew into the courtroom. However, it was Cena's voice that broke out above the rest. "STOP!" he yelled, his grip tightening around Catherine's throat even more as he pulled her backwards. Catherine struggled to find the floor beneath her feet as she was unceremoniously dragged further away from the doors. "NOBODY MOVE!"

"Sir, please, listen to us," one of the officers spoke up.

"Shut up and get out of here, or I will kill her!" Cena snapped, jamming the gun roughly into Catherine's temple. She whimpered slightly, trying to pull her head away from the gun. She gagged slightly as his grip tightened around her windpipe even more. She shoved against his forearm, trying to create some sort of gap that would allow her to suck in a breath of fresh air. Cena resisted her movements, yanking her back with his forearm. "Stop moving!" he yelled at Catherine.

Catherine complied, settling her movements for the moment. She silently worked on controlling her breathing and shaking legs.

"Sir please," the officer tried again. "This isn't worth hurting CSI Willows."

"This bitch here is trying to ruin my life!" Another jerk. "There's no way I'm leaving here until she's dead!"

Catherine heard a slight gasp as Cena said this, though she had no clue who it came from. It could have been her for all she knew. The gasp brought her back to reality, though, that there were approximately thirty-five innocent people in the room with her…well, thirty-three innocent people, the man she loved with all her heart, and Adam Novak.

"Sir, it's not worth it to hurt her," the officer said. "So why don't you let her-"

His words were cut off when Cena swung the gun away from Catherine's head and shot towards the sky. Catherine's ears were ringing as she involuntarily jumped and the rest of the courtroom members, except for Gil, Sara, and the officer, screamed.

Catherine waited until the screams died down before she spoke up. "Look, James," she said quietly, bracing herself for the shake that she knew was inevitable. Once her bones stopped jarring, Catherine continued, "James, please let these people go. You said that it was me that you want. I'm here, and it's not worth it to hurt anyone else here."

Cena breathed deeply, his cheek against Catherine's head as sweat formed at his hairline. He sniffed, looking over the members of the courtroom as he put the safety back on the gun.

"Get out of here. All of you, except for him and her," Cena finally spoke up, waving his gun at…

…At Gil and Sara, Catherine realized.

_Oh…God._

_No._

"Sir, we can't leave here because you tell us to," the officer said with a slight laugh, his voice conveying that he thought Cena was the stupidest man on Earth if he thought that they were going to just walk away. "Just let all the hostages and CSI Willows go and we can-"

"Officer, just do as he says!" Catherine gasped when she heard the safety click off of the gun again, the barrel resting against the base of her skull.

"Get the fuck out of here," Cena said gruffly, waving his gun towards the exit. "All of you! GO!" he yelled when the members of the court didn't move fast enough for his liking.

Catherine watched as the members of the courtroom silently walked out, none of them sparing a look back at Sara, Gil, Catherine, or Cena. She couldn't help the feeling of relief that washed over her body as the family of Jane Smelders left the courtroom, huddled together. They had already been through enough at the hands of James Cena, and Catherine would have felt incredibly guilty had one of them been hurt due to Cena's rage against her. The same didn't hold true for Adam Novak, though. Catherine knew that he had planted all types of misinformation in Cena's head, which was possibly why he was currently holding a gun to her head…well, other than the fact that she had pissed him off to no end. Catherine glared at the sleazy man's retreating form as he hastily exited the courtroom, not even sparing a glance backwards at the disaster he more than likely had helped to create. _If she could get her hands on him right now, the cut under her eye from a few years ago would be avenged…_

When the last person walked out of the courtroom, supporting the injured bailiff, Gil glanced at Cena. "Now what?" he asked softly.

"I want you to go lock the doors," Cena told Gil. "Move slow. No sudden movements."

Gil did as Cena said, walking to the heavy doors and locking the door, effectively secluding the four from the rest of the world. He turned and walked back to the benches, standing next to Sara. His fiancé looked at him fearfully, her eyes betraying her calm outer appearance. Gil attempted to convey with his eyes that everything would be alright, but he knew that Sara didn't get the message. She was terrified, and wasn't willing to trust Gil's wordless promise.

Catherine flexed her fingers slightly, wishing that Cena would loosen his grip on her throat. While she was far from losing consciousness, it was really uncomfortable…not that Cena really cared about Catherine's comfort if he had just been bellowing in her ear minutes ago about blowing her brains out…

"You," Cena's voice broke Catherine out of her thoughts as he spoke. She dared to glance backwards, only to grimace when Cena roughly shook her in a warning not to move. Catherine glanced at Gil and Sara, and when she saw the apprehension in the latter's eyes, she realized who Cena had been talking to. "Come here."

Sara glanced warily at Gil, who nodded slightly in encouragement to simply do as Cena said. Sara slowly moved forward, her palms outward in a non-threatening manner as she stepped up to Cena. "Go get his gun and bring it to me, handle first," Cena said to Sara. She nodded, walking slowly to the bailiff, keeping her eyes on Cena the whole time. While Sara didn't think that Cena would shoot her, as it seemed to be Catherine that he wanted to harm, she still didn't want to take any chances.

Sara made her way to the first bailiff, pulling his gun out by the butt. She slowly turned and walked to Cena, looking at him questioningly for the next move.

"Drop it on the ground," he ordered. Sara complied, dropping the gun at his feet. With a nod of his head, he told Sara to do the same action with the other dead bailiff. She did so, looking up at Cena after she had deposited the second gun by his feet. "Now go get his handcuffs," Cena said gruffly.

_Handcuffs?_ Catherine thought warily, a frown marring her features. _Why does he need them?_

With a glance towards Grissom, Sara walked over to the second deceased officer, pulling his handcuffs out of the pouch on his belt. She shakily walked back to Cena, meeting gazes with Catherine.

Sara couldn't help but be bewildered as Catherine looked at her. Despite the fact that she was being held at gunpoint, a crazy man's arm restricting her movement and breathing patterns, the strawberry blonde still managed to smile at the brunette. Granted, it wasn't an all out grin, and if you blinked you would have missed it, Catherine still managed to keep her cool, calm, collected head even while facing death.

Sara was broken out of her thoughts when Cena roughly turned Catherine so that her shoulder was against his chest, the gun resting lazily against her breast. "Cuff her," Cena ordered Sara. Sara looked up at Cena, not comprehending what he was asking at first, the metal of the handcuffs cool against her clammy hands. Rolling his eyes, Cena reiterated, "Put the fucking handcuffs on her or I'll shoot her, you, then lover boy over there."

Sara cringed inwardly as she looked at Catherine, seeing fear in the blonde's eyes when she awkwardly turned her head to look at Sara. Nevertheless, Catherine nodded slightly at Sara in order to let her know that she understood that this wasn't Sara's fault. With nothing but pure apologies in her eyes, Sara moved behind Catherine and guided her hands behind her back. Sara placed the handcuffs as gently as possible on her wrists, locking the metal bracelets around her friend's slender wrists. Sara watched, almost transfixed, as Catherine moved her fingers awkwardly in an attempt to try to get her arms comfortable despite them being restrained behind her back. She squeezed Catherine's fingers in apology and support, waiting until Catherine returned the gesture as best as she could before stepping back and hurrying to Gil's side with Cena's wordless command. Catherine couldn't help but feel some jealousy as she watched Gil hug Sara gently before bringing his inquisitive gaze back to Catherine and Cena.

Cena yanked Catherine back towards him, breaking her out of her stupor as Cena trapped her arms between her back and his chest. "See, bitch, that is what a real woman is supposed to do: fucking listen," he said. Keeping the gun pressed into her chest, he reached down between them, tightening the notches of the cuffs against her wrists until they wouldn't tighten anymore. Catherine wanted to cry out as she felt the handcuffs bite into her delicate wrists. The right handcuff was settled directly against her wrist bone, and she had to bite her lip to avoid crying out in pain. She couldn't move her hands to relieve the pressure, and she feared that her arms were going to go numb within a few moments. "That's better," Cena said. "I don't have to worry about you causing any more trouble for me."

"I…I'm not going to cause you trouble, James," Catherine stammered. "I just…I'm sorry. I was just doing my job."

"'I was just doing my job'," Cena mimicked in a singsong voice, reminding Catherine of her encounter with Leo Finley. The troubled young man had said the exact same thing to her only a couple years ago. While he had threatened her, nothing had ever come of it. Leo seemingly vanished from the face of the Earth…not that Catherine really minded. The last thing she needed was him popping up at her house and killing himself on her front lawn. _Imagine trying to explain that one to Lindsay._ She broke herself from her thoughts, forcing herself to listen to Cena's rambling in order to try to convince him that he was making a mistake. "You are not! All you want to do is get revenge on an innocent man! Don't think that Adam Novak didn't tell me all about you! You're a man hater!"

"I am not a man hater," Catherine tried to reason as she attempted to meet Cena's gaze over her shoulder. "Adam just said those things because he has a personal vendetta against me. Please. We can end this right now before anyone else gets hurt."

She was unprepared when Cena roughly pulled on the chain holding the handcuffs together, pain shooting through her arms and shoulders at the action. Catherine bit back a cry, looking up at Cena with tears in her eyes. "Oh, I plan on hurting you no matter what," Cena said lowly, pressing a kiss against her cheek. Catherine instinctively pulled away, only to freeze when she felt the gun press against her chest roughly.

Catherine looked at Gil as Cena's lips assaulted her neck, her eyes filled with tears that she refused to allow to fall. She wasn't sure how she had gotten into this mess, and she had no clue how she was going to get out if it. It was bad enough that she was involved, but now she had to deal with the fact that Grissom and Sara were there. She had wanted to scream when Grissom started talking, and she about had a coronary when Cena had refused to let him leave. It was a suicide mission, and she feared what could happen, especially since Cena had refused to let Sara leave as well.

"So where do we go from here, James?" Gil finally broke the silence, inching his way up to the gate that separated the members of the courtroom from the judge, jury, defense attorney, and prosecutor. It pained him to see Catherine hurting. He hadn't missed her wince when Cena had tightened the handcuffs too tightly, and he sure wasn't missing the tears that were threatening to fall. "I know that Catherine upset you, but hurting her isn't going to fix anything."

"Yes, it will," Cena answered, shaking Catherine slightly as he finally stopped kissing her neck. "How does it feel to be locked up like an animal?" he asked Catherine, his breath hot against her ear. "How does it feel to be trapped?"

Catherine glared up at him, her eyes briefly hardening. She wanted to do nothing more than spit in his face and yell 'Fuck you!', but she just knew that that wouldn't end well for her. More than likely it would wind up with her, Gil, and Sara on an autopsy table, and that was not a risk she was willing to take. So instead, she just stood there, biting the inside of her cheek and listening to Cena berate her.

"What, you have nothing to say? Cat got your tongue or something?" Cena sneered. "I find that hard to believe, you cowardly whore." He reached between them again, and for a second, Catherine feared that he was going to grope her backside. It was bad enough that he had pressed his disgusting lips against her, but for him to touch her in a spot that was so intimate? _Hell…no. _ She squirmed slightly, determined not to allow him to touch her. "Stop moving!" Cena yelled, his free hand finding the handcuff chain and pulling it roughly. Catherine grunted as the too tight handcuffs bit against her wrists, tears threatening to overflow as the action sent stabbing pins and needles up her arms yet again. "I wouldn't waste my time on you anyways, you fucking slut," Cena added, yanking the chain again in satisfaction when he saw Catherine's struggle to keep her anguish covered. "The only reason I kissed you was to piss off your lover boy over there."

"He…he's not my lover boy," Catherine told James. "So why don't you let him and her go and it can-" Another yank on the chain. Catherine bit her lip to avoid crying out. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was hurting her.

"Oh, trust me, Cath," She winced at the nickname that maliciously fell from Cena's lips, "He loves you. I can see it in his eyes. Why else would he stay in a room with a man who has a gun, three hostages, and nothing to lose?"

Catherine glanced at Gil and Sara. Sara was looking at the ground, not making eye contact with Catherine as she studied the pattern on the floor. Catherine briefly wondered why, whether it was out of embarrassment or relief that she wasn't being treated the way that Catherine was. Or maybe it was anger. She certainly hoped that Sara didn't believe what Cena was saying. Granted, it _was_ true that she loved Gil, but she would _never_ attempt to ruin his relationship with Sara.

Gil, on the other hand, was seemingly ignoring Cena's words. Instead, he was focused on Catherine, searching her face in an attempt to make sure that the blonde was okay, that she was surviving this for the time being. His eyes held nothing but concern for Catherine, and bless his heart for trying to convey the message to Catherine that she was going to be okay: that she…as well as Sara and Gil…were going to make it out of here alive.

Catherine wasn't sure that she would, though.

"James, it's me you want," Catherine attempted to reason with him yet again. "Please, just let them go…"

"Shut up," Cena hissed, pressing the gun against her chest.

"James, please-"

Catherine winced as he pulled on the chain again, sending shockwaves of pain down her arms despite the fact that they had gone numb minutes before. He moved the gun from her chest to her back, using the butt of the gun to slam in between her shoulder blades, the blonde wincing with pain as her knees threatened to give out beneath her. The only thing that kept her from standing was Cena, who swiftly yanked her back to his chest, the gun moving back to her chest. "WHAT PART OF SHUT UP DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?!" he yelled. Catherine flinched as his voice pierced her still ringing ears.

"I'm sorry," Catherine murmured, cringing as Cena pulled on the handcuff chain again in an attempt to shut her up. _He knows that he's in control and is using the handcuffs to do so, _Catherine realized. _Every time I cry out, he feels that he's in control of the situation even more. _She silently vowed not to flinch or cry out if he pulled on the chain again.

The four stood in silence for several long minutes, the only sound coming from outside the barricaded doors as officers and SWAT team members determined in hushed voices what to do in order to end this peacefully.

_It's not going to end peacefully, _Catherine thought. The three other people in the room knew that too. It was going to result in a bloodbath, and Catherine could only pray that it wasn't her, Gil, or Sara who ended up hurt.

As each second ticked by, Catherine could feel painful needle pricks shooting up and down her arms as she waited for Cena to speak or make a move. She glanced at Sara, noting the way that her hand was on Grissom's forearm, the brunette drawing strength from her fiancé. Gil didn't seem to even notice, however, as he locked eyes with Catherine, smiling the briefest of smiles at his friend despite the tense situation.

"James," Grissom finally spoke up softly after awhile. "Is there anything you want me to do? Can I see if the police will get you anything?"

"I want you to shut up," James growled, pulling down on the handcuff chain again.

_This was getting ridiculous, _Catherine thought as she bit down on her lip to stop the cry of pain that emitted from her throat. She was tired of being the victim, and this was going to end right now.

Catherine glanced at Gil, their eyes locked once again. Somehow, Gil knew what Catherine was thinking.

_Please, Cath, don't do it…_

_Trust me, Gil…_

It took several long moments for Cena's grip to loosen in the slightest, but when it did, Catherine was prepared to act. "James," she started, bracing herself for the tug of the handcuff chain that she expected. When he pulled the chain, the gun pointed away from her, Gil, and Sara, she moved quickly.

Catherine dug her foot down Cena's shin, digging her heel into his flesh and shimmying away from him. She briefly glanced at an obviously pissed and pained Cena before kicking one of the guns at her feet towards Gil, the weapon sliding underneath the gate separating the members of the court from the benches where family and friends sat. She hadn't expected Cena to recover so quickly from her surprise attack, and Catherine grimaced as she felt the butt of Cena's gun immediately slam against the base of her neck for the second time. If she could have fallen to her knees, she would have, as the blow sent shockwaves of pain down her spine and numb arms, spots forming behind her eyes as she fought to keep her balance. She felt more pain in her arms and couldn't help the scream that finally tore from her lips as Cena grabbed the chain attached to the handcuffs and yanked back as hard as he could. Her legs felt wobbly as she fell back, leaning against Cena's chest briefly as she struggled not to pass out.

Catherine heard the gun cock behind her, and she closed her eyes, prepared to meet her maker as she involuntarily fell to her knees thanks to a shove in the back from Cena. A gunshot rang out, and Catherine screamed again, waiting for the pain to fill her body. She heard Cena curse, and she realized why. Gil had shot at Cena, and the unexpected gunfire had startled Cena. Two shots were fired from behind Catherine, and from her vantage point, she could see Gil ducking down, shoving Sara behind the courtroom bench for protection.

Catherine twisted slightly from her position on the ground, looking back at Cena over her shoulder. She was unprepared for the foot that connected roughly with the side of her ribcage, the field goal like kick sending her sprawling to the ground on her back, her arms protesting the motion when she landed directly on her handcuffed limbs. She was stuck like an overturned turtle, unable to move or scramble out of the way as her breath caught in her chest from what was undoubtedly broken ribs. She weakly cried out, her vision blurring from the pain shooting through her arms as she looked up at Cena, a maniacal look on the murderer's face as he aimed the gun at Catherine's forehead.

_This is it, _Catherine realized as she closed her eyes, defenseless. She was out of options and fight, and this was her end. Catherine waited for the inevitable, hating that the last person she would ever see was Cena and she prayed that Lindsay would be okay without her mother.

Catherine Willows passed out as a fourth shot rang out in the courtroom, silence finally reigning.

~/~

End Part 9/?

A cliffhanger?! Haha, please review!!!


	10. Brink

Whoa. First of all, thank you SO much for all the awesome reviews for the last chapter. It's the awesome people like you who make me want to write fanfiction despite having a very packed schedule as it is. I sincerely appreciate every review from the bottom of my heart. I absolutely cannot wait for the next few episodes of CSI. I'm not going to spoil anything, but they are looking to be very Marg/Catherine heavy, which is just what I've been waiting for ALL season. Who knows what the episodes will trigger in my Grillows brain, haha. I must have missed the spoilers that say Gil comes back for Catherine after leaving Sara in some random rainforest in Costa Rica…

Moving on…Depending on a few things, I'm going to *ATTEMPT* to post the next chapter this week (Thursday or Friday). I work all week, and am going to be out of town this weekend for a couple WWE shows in Rhode Island and Connecticut. Gotta love my wrestling! If not, it will definitely be sometime early next week when I post again.

Thanks again for all the support folks, and enjoy! Please review, thanks!

~/~

Gil kept his gun in front of him as he forced his feet to move forward, walking numbly to Cena. His body on autopilot, he kicked the gun away from Cena's lifeless hand, reaching down and checking for a pulse. Gil pressed his hand against Cena's neck for a few seconds, confirming that the man who had terrorized Catherine mere seconds ago really was dead. Fury rose through his veins as he stared at the man who had held them hostage, threatening to kill Catherine…

_Catherine! _

Gil frantically turned to the strawberry blonde, his face paling when he saw that she wasn't moving. For a second, he wondered if she had been shot, but as he touched her shoulder, Catherine came back to consciousness with a jolt. She met Gil's concerned gaze, and with a gasp, she struggled to sit up.

"Cath! Catherine, settle down," Gil said, dropping the gun at his feet and putting his hands on her shoulders as he kneeled beside her. "It's okay; he can't hurt you anymore."

Unbalanced, she still struggled to sit up, and with Gil's help, she was able to. Catherine leaned toward him and pressed her face against the hollow of his throat, tears finally spilling from her eyes. Gil wrapped his arms around Catherine's shoulders, cursing when he realized that she was still handcuffed.

"Sara, I need the handcuff keys," Gil told his fiancé gruffly before turning back to Catherine. "Shh, Catherine, it's going to be okay," he soothed the blonde. "Sara, come on! Hurry up!" Gil snapped when he realized that Sara hadn't moved, that she seemed to be rooted to the spot, transfixed on the scene before her.

Sara snapped out of her stupor and scurried over to bailiff, finding his handcuff keys. She jogged back over to Gil, wordlessly handing the keys over.

Gil snatched them without a thank you, turning back to Catherine. "Cath?" he said softly, lowering his head to her level, whispering softly in her ear as she refused to move her head from his chest. "Catherine, I'm going to uncuff you now, okay?" Feeling her nod against his chest, he reached behind her, looking over her shoulder as he fumbled with the keys. "Sara, go unlock the door," he ordered Sara, his many years as a crime scene investigator kicking his instincts into high gear. "Tell them we need CSI and an EMT."

Sara silently did as he asked, and after several long moments, Grissom finally had the handcuffs undone from Catherine's wrists. Her arms fell limply to her sides, and she simply kept her face pressed into his chest, refusing to meet his gaze as tears spilled down her cheeks and soaked into Grissom's shirt. Catherine didn't move as she felt Gil rub her arms, frantically attempting to get circulation back into her arms. It was then that she realized the magnitude of what had happened.

Catherine trembled as she felt her arms slowly regaining feeling, the pain in her body hitting her tenfold. Her wrists were aching, as was the base of her neck and between her shoulder blades. The sobs emitting from her throat were hurting her ribs as she gasped to breathe, her throat aching from where Cena's arm had been restricting her movement.

"What do we have here?" Grissom heard a voice ask, and he glanced up from Catherine to meet the stare of a young EMT. He glanced back at Catherine, unsure of what her exact injuries were just yet. "Sir? Can you tell me what happened? What's her name?"

"Her name is Catherine Willows," Grissom said numbly. "She had her arms tightly handcuffed behind her back for an extended period of time, and the perpetrator repeatedly pulled down on the chain of the handcuffs. She also was slammed in the back of the neck with a handgun twice, and kicked in the stomach by the perpetrator," Gil told the EMT numbly, holding Catherine as close as possible without causing her discomfort…well, anymore discomfort then she already had to be feeling.

The EMT nodded, kneeling down next to Catherine. "Ms. Willows, I'm Jake. I'm going to take care of you, okay, honey?" he said softly to the blonde, not wanting to scare or startle her.

Catherine refused to answer, staying pressed up against Grissom. Jake glanced at Grissom, who bent his head down again to Catherine. "Cath…Jake here needs to take a look over you to make sure that you are okay," Gil explained soothingly.

Catherine nodded against Gil. Her hands were slowly regaining feeling, and she managed to grasp his shirt. "Don't leave me," she whispered hoarsely, ignoring the pain that shot through her wrist at the action. "Please, don't leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere, Catherine," Gil told her, rubbing circles on her back, being careful to avoid where Cena had struck her several minutes ago. He turned his attention back to Jake, asking the younger man, "How do you want her?"

"Can you lay her on her back?" Jake requested.

Grissom nodded, turning his attention back to Catherine. "Cath…do you think that you can lay down?" he asked her.

Catherine nodded slowly, but made no motion to move. Grissom shifted his arms, guiding Catherine so that she was lying down. Her hand continued to grasp his shirt, though it worried Grissom that her grip wasn't as dominant.

"Catherine, can you tell me what hurts?" Jake prodded gently.

Catherine's eyes were glazed over and unfocused as she looked at Gil, nonverbally asking her former boss for support. "It's okay, Cath," Gil said soothingly. "It's all over. You can tell him what hurts."

She blinked slowly before mumbling, "Hands…neck…ribs…throat."

"Okay," Jake said soothingly, checking her heartbeat and pulse discreetly. "Is it okay if we put a neck brace on you?"

Catherine again glanced at Gil, panic spreading across her features, but he simply smiled weakly at his friend in return. "It's okay, Cath," he said softly, looking at the EMT. "It's probably just for precaution, right?" he asked Jake.

"More than likely, yes," Jake said. "You seemed to be moving okay a few seconds ago, but you could have delayed reactions or progress…"

Catherine blinked as those words filled her ears, making her think back to one of the worst nights of her life.

_It had taken minutes for the police to arrive at the scene of the accident, and what they had found was a hysterical Catherine Willows slamming her shoulder repeatedly against the damaged door to her car in a frantic attempt to get it open, yelling that someone had kidnapped her daughter. Instantly, an Amber Alert was issued, the police working immediately to get a description of Lindsay Willows to the press. Minutes passed quickly, and Catherine didn't remember being released from her seatbelt or the car, or being guided to the back of an ambulance; however, her senses returned with a vengeance when she realized that the EMT wanted to take her to a hospital…and away from the scene where her daughter - her baby - had been kidnapped._

_Catherine had to resist rolling her eyes as the EMT waved a neck collar in front of her face, his intents clear. "No. I don't need that. I'm fine," she waved the EMT off, pressing the cloth against her head as she attempted to stem the flow of blood from the cut that had developed near her hairline thanks to the airbag._

"_Ma'am, you need to put this on for your own safety-" the EMT told Catherine. _

"_No," she cut him off. _

"_You suffered a head trauma, there could be serious delayed progress," the EMT argued. _

"_I'm refusing treatment," Catherine insisted, her sole thoughts on her daughter and not the pounding in her head. "Just give me the release form."_

"_Ma'am," the EMT said. "I strongly recommend you put this on…" He reached to Catherine, and she angrily shoved his hand away. _

"_Just give me the damn form!" While she wasn't screaming, her voice was bordering on hysterical, and Warrick stepped from around the ambulance and spoke up before Catherine either cursed out the young man or took a swing at him._

"_Hey," he said softly, trying to keep Catherine calm. "Hey, hey."_

_Catherine shot to her feet and used Warrick's arms as support to balance herself, the EMT long forgotten as she babbled incoherently about Lindsay and the car that she had been carried to. She shakily made her way from the ambulance to the scene of the accident, her determination to find her daughter and training as a CSI outweighing the dizziness in her head. She registered Warrick nervously watching her every move, prepared to grab her if she were to have passed out, but she couldn't stop. She WOULDN'T stop._

_Not when her daughter's life hung in the balance._

Catherine froze as she felt the neck brace wrapping around her neck, the hard plastic reminding her instantly of the feel of Cena's forearm against her throat. "Get it off," she whispered hoarsely, her breath catching in her throat as she thought back to the way that Cena restricted her breathing mere minutes before. "Get it off!" she repeated louder, crying out as she shoved against Jake's hands, her injured wrists protesting the movement.

"Whoa, whoa, Catherine!" Gil chastised gently. "Catherine, look at me!"

Catherine brought her tear filled gaze to Gil's, taking in his blue eyes. "I don't want that on," Catherine told him, unable to keep the sob from escaping. "I don't want that touching my…my throat!"

"It's okay, Catherine, you don't have to do anything that you don't want to," Gil soothed. "It's just that it will help to keep your neck still so that it won't hurt anymore," he explained. Seeing the defiance in Catherine's eyes, he sighed to himself but felt a little relieved at the same time. There was fire in her eyes, signifying that the Catherine Willows he knew was making an appearance. "How about we just work on getting you stabilized and on the backboard, and then maybe we'll try the neck brace again?"

Catherine swallowed, whispering, "Okay." She closed her eyes, placing all her trust in Gil and Jake as the EMT looked over her body for obvious injuries before preparing to carefully move her body onto a backboard.

Sara sat on a bench, staring at the scene before her numbly. Sara watched as her fiancé comforted the woman lying on the ground and not paying any attention to her…the woman that Gil planned to spend the rest of his life with. She watched as Grissom stroked Catherine's hair, asking her if she was okay, asking her if she wanted him to call Lindsay…

And he had yet to check to make sure if Sara was all right, to check whether she had been hit by a stray bullet or debris or whether she was in shock.

Sara jumped slightly when she felt a presence next to her. She looked up with tear filled eyes, seeing Greg standing next to her, a concerned look on his face. "Sara…you okay?" he asked softly.

"I…I'm fine," Sara answered.

"Do you need to get checked out by an EMT?" Greg asked gently. He saw Sara's shaking hands, and briefly, he remembered the way his hands shook constantly following the lab explosion. _Post traumatic stress disorder,_ Greg thought grimly.

"No, I…I'm not hurt," Sara stammered, her eyes locked on Gil and Catherine. Gil had a light hand on Catherine's shoulder. She couldn't hear what was being said, but Grissom was talking to Catherine in an attempt to keep her calm as Jake checked her wrists. Sara shivered slightly as she thought back to being stuck under the Mustang, her arm trapped and broken from the pressure. Even from a distance, Sara could see that Catherine's wrists were bruised and raw, and it wouldn't shock Sara if she were to find out that Catherine had at least one broken wrist.

Seeing the faraway look in Sara's eyes, Greg patted her arm carefully. "Talk to me, Sara," Greg said. "What are you thinking?"

"It's not fair," Sara murmured.

"I know," Greg soothed. "Catherine is going to be fine."

Sara brought her gaze to Greg. "That's not what I was talking about," she snapped at him. Greg looked back in confusion before realizing what Sara was saying.

"You've got to be kidding me," Greg said incredulously. "His best friend is hurt, and you're letting jealousy rear its ugly head? Come on, Sara, I thought I knew you better than that!"

Sara merely glared at him. "He's ignoring me," she stated.

"Yeah, well, Catherine is hurt and terrified. It's obvious to me that the only person here who can comfort her at the moment is Grissom. I don't know what went on in this room, but you obviously lucked out," Greg answered. "Get your head out of your ass, Sara, and get over it."

Sara didn't answer; rather, she kept her gaze on the pair a mere ten feet away as Greg stood up and walked away, taking his place against the wall where Riley, Nick, and Ray were patiently waiting to investigate the crime scene. The case should have gone to dayshift, but Nick had convinced Ecklie to let Catherine's team investigate. Word had spread fast, and within minutes, Catherine's team knew what happened and they had headed to the courthouse. Silently, they watched the scene before them, worry etched on all their faces.

Catherine gripped Gil's arm in fear, her eyes wide as Jake came closer to her with the neck brace. "Catherine," he soothed, stroking the side of her face when a whimper escaped her lips. "Cath, it's okay," Gil told her. "Jake's just going to put a neck brace on you. He's not going to hurt you, and Cena can't hurt you anymore, okay?"

Catherine swallowed, her eyes dilated with fear. She trusted Gil, but…she was so scared. Her eyes flickered over to where Cena lay dead, his cold eyes open as he lay sprawled on the ground, the gun several inches from his hands. "Catherine?" Gil asked softly. "Honey, he's not going to hurt you. Please let Jake do his job. Trust me."

She finally met his gaze, a hoarse whisper coming from her lips. "I…I trust you, Gil," Catherine whispered.

"Good girl," Grissom answered, a lump forming in his throat as he stroked her hair away from her face. "Everything's going to be okay."

Catherine didn't answer and she closed her eyes, trying to avoid the panic that was threatening to surface. Her heart was pounding against her chest as Jake wrapped the neck brace carefully around her neck. Her ribs ached, but that was the least of her worries at the moment.

"There you go, Catherine," Gil soothed. "It's all over."

She forced her eyes open, meeting his gaze. The neck brace that now encircled her neck restricted her movement, but she had to admit that once it was on, it wasn't so bad. She blinked back tears, bringing her attention back to Jake as he spoke.

"Catherine, we're going to get you on the stretcher and take you out to the ambulance, okay?" the young EMT asked. "Then, we'll get you to a hospital so that we can look at your ribs, wrists, throat, and neck, okay?"

"Yeah," Catherine answered wearily. She closed her eyes, wishing that this whole ordeal was over. All she wanted to do was sleep.

"Cath, honey, you need to open your eyes," Gil told her gently, wiping an errant strand of hair away from her face. "He hit you in the back of the head a few times, and we don't want you to go asleep if you have a concussion, okay?"

Catherine sighed at Grissom's request, knowing that it was feasible, but she still felt like sleeping. Nevertheless, she forced her eyes open, meeting the concern in Gil's. She kept her eyes locked on his as she drew strength from his blue pools before Jake spoke up, causing Grissom to look away.

"Gil, do you think that you could help me lift Catherine onto the gurney?" Jake asked Grissom. "Normally I'd call one of my colleagues over, but they're all…" Jake waved a hand, gesturing to the men who were looking over the people in the hallway. "And she seems to be comfortable with you around," the EMT added.

"Yeah, I can do that," Grissom answered, moving to Catherine's feet.

"Okay, on the count of three," Jake said. "One, two, three."

Together, Jake and Gil lifted Catherine easily onto the gurney. Catherine remained silent as Jake strapped her down, making sure that she was secure on the gurney. Jake tucked a blanket around her, trying to keep the shivering supervisor warm. "All right, Catherine, let's get you to the hospital, okay?" Jake said softly, patting her shoulder.

She didn't respond, rather, she kept her eyes to the ceiling as Jake and Gil led her out of the courtroom. "Stay strong, Cath," she heard Nick say, and she moved her eyes to meet his. Ray carefully patted her knee as she was wheeled past, and the blonde offered her group a weak smile in return.

She was wheeled down the silent corridor to an awaiting ambulance. She didn't speak to the crowd of reporters that had formed near the ambulance, each clamoring to get a picture of the injured supervisor and the man who would later be deemed an instant hero for not only taking out James Cena, but for saving Catherine and Sara as well. She didn't say a word to Gil or Jake either as they guided her into the ambulance, the duo slamming the door shut from the pandemonium outside.

Instead, she simply allowed the tears to slip down her cheeks yet again.

~/~

Grissom wasn't sure now long he'd been sitting in the waiting room. It could have been minutes or hours; he wasn't sure. All he knew was that after rushing Catherine into the emergency room with Jake, she'd been whisked away to a room while he'd been banished to the waiting room. Somewhere along the line, Sara had joined him, but they hadn't spoken at all.

"Uncle Gil!" the voice broke out in the quiet room, and Grissom looked up, Lindsay Willows throwing herself into his arms a second later. Lindsay hugged him tightly, and Gil returned the sentiment by wrapping his arms around Lindsay, meeting the worried gaze of Lily Willows, who had been following Lindsay.

Lindsay stepped back, tears pooling in her eyes. "Uncle Gil, where's my mom?" she asked worriedly. "Is she okay?"

Grissom glanced up at Lily, unsure of what to say to Lindsay. Seeing the worry in Lily's eyes, Gil cleared his throat. "I…when she was brought in, she was conscious, talking…she said that her wrists, throat, back, and ribs were hurting her. The nurses wouldn't let me go with her, and I've been out here the whole time," he finally said.

"Is she going to be all right?" Lindsay asked tearfully.

"I'm sure she will," Sara spoke up, moving to sit next to Grissom. He turned to her, surprised. For a moment, Grissom had forgotten that his fiancé was there. For a brief second he was annoyed that Sara would put that false hope into Lindsay, especially since they hadn't heard anything about the status of Catherine.

Gil cleared his throat, turning back to Lindsay. Seeing her lip quivering, Gil's heart broke. "Come here, butterfly," he said softly, opening his arms to Lindsay. With a sniffle, Lindsay collapsed against Gil. He carefully picked her up so that she was sitting in his lap, burying her face into Gil's shirt, the same place that Catherine's had been hours ago. "It's going to be okay, baby," Gil soothed, stroking her back as he clung tightly to the young woman, Lindsay doing the same as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Lily sat down next to the pair, her hand resting on Lindsay's shoulder as Gil comforted her.

"I don't want to lose my mommy too," Lindsay sobbed, grasping Gil even tighter. "It's bad enough that I lost my daddy; I can't bear to lose mom too!"

"You're not going to lose her, honey," Gil said softly. "She's a little hurt, but I'm sure that she'll be okay."

"How do you know?" Lindsay asked, leaning her head back finally. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and pools of tears threatened to spill over. "How do you know she's going to be fine?"

Gil didn't answer; rather, he kept his gaze locked on Lindsay's, his look telling her what she needed to know…that her mother would be fine with love, support, and prayers. With a sigh, Lindsay buried her face in Gil's shoulder again, sniffling.

They sat like that for several long minutes, Gil offering a weak smile to Lily every once in awhile. It was the least that he could do. In actuality, he had no clue what to say to Catherine's mother and daughter, or to Sara for that matter. He knew that Catherine's injuries weren't life threatening, and it seemed that the most serious was in regards to her neck. On the ride to the hospital, Catherine had admitted to Gil and Jake that her arms were tingly, but Jake hadn't been sure whether that was due to her circulation getting cut off by the handcuffs or if it was an effect from the blow to the base of her neck. Other than that, her wrists would more than likely heal quickly, as would her ribs.

Still, the mental anguish that Catherine was sure to experience would not be good. Gil suspected that Catherine would have nightmares, fear, and anxiety for years to come. He prayed that she was strong enough to overcome the demons.

He glanced at Sara, becoming somewhat worried when he saw the blank look in his fiancé's eyes. "Sara?" Gil asked cautiously. "Are you okay?" He knew that Sara hadn't been physically hurt, but…it suddenly occurred to him that she had been in that courtroom too.

"What do you care?" Sara snapped, standing up and walking away to the window overlooking the parking lot. Gil stared after her, bewildered. He opened his mouth to reply, only to bring his attention to a doctor who poked his head into the doorway.

"Family of Catherine Willows?" the doctor asked.

Lindsay leaped off of Gil's lap, all but running to the doctor as Lily and Gil followed at a slower yet equally as urgent pace. "That's us!" she told the doctor. "This is my grandmother Lily Willows, and this is Gil Grissom." Without giving the doctor a chance to speak or introduce himself, Lindsay pressed forward, "Is my mom okay?"

The doctor, whose nametag labeled him as 'Dr. Ross,' glanced at the trio, taking in the haggard, exhausted appearance of the man as well as the worried expressions in the two women. The doctor sighed, looking over his clipboard. "Ms. Willows is going to be fine," the doctor began, only to pause when there were three sighs of relief.

"Is she…what's wrong?" Lily asked.

Dr. Ross glanced at the clipboard, then said, "Ms. Willows suffered a few injuries. First, as a result of being handcuffed and having them pulled on several times, she suffered bruises, burns, sprains, and torn ligaments in both of her wrists."

Lindsay gasped softly, her mind going back to an incident from her childhood. She had fallen while roller skating and landed on her wrist. At first, she had thought that her wrist was broken, but it was a simple sprain. She had been in pain for awhile, and she could only imagine how badly it hurt to have sprained both at one time. "Is she…what can you do for that?" Lindsay finally asked.

Gil was somewhat proud of Lindsay. He knew that Catherine's daughter was terrified, but she was holding herself together well in front of the doctor. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, bringing his expectant gaze up to Dr. Ross as well.

"We coated the skin on her wrists with antiseptic cream and wrapped them in gauze, then put heavy braces on both of her wrists to keep them still. That's the best option for sprains most of the time," Dr. Ross explained to Lindsay. "In a few weeks, she'll be fine, as long as she takes it easy."

The doctor hesitated, and Lily prompted him to continue by asking, "What else?"

"Ms. Willows suffered two broken ribs," Dr. Ross informed them. Seeing that Lindsay was about to speak up, he added, "We've wrapped the ribs to stabilize them. She's going to be sore for a few days, but as long as she takes it easy, she will heal up in no time." Gil smiled to himself. _Catherine, take it easy? _Grissom thought. _Fat chance…_

"What about her neck, Doctor?" Grissom finally spoke up. "Is she…"

"Her neck is going to be fine, as far as we can tell," Dr. Ross responded. Gil breathed a sigh of relief. "She has some bruising to the back of her neck, which is to be expected when one suffers impact there. However, we did an MRI, and it looks like there is no permanent damage there. There are no cracks in the vertebrae or discs there, so her neck will probably just be stiff for a week or so. She's not exhibiting signs of a concussion either, which can occur when a person is struck where she was."

There was a long pause as the duo comprehended the information, and then Lindsay anxiously spoke up. "Can I see my mom?"

"Of course," Dr. Ross answered. Looking at Gil, he asked, "Any more questions, Mr. Grissom?"

"No, thank you, sir," Gil answered.

Lindsay and Lily started to walk off with Dr. Ross. Lindsay turned back to Gil, asking, "Are you guys coming with us?"

"I'll be right there, honey," Gil answered, glancing back at Sara, who was stormily staring out the window of the hospital. "I'll see you soon."

Lindsay nodded and turned, scurrying to catch up with Dr. Ross and her grandmother.

Grissom turned his attention to Sara, making his way over to her. "Sara, what's-" he started to ask, only to have her turn to him angrily.

"Save it, Grissom," she spit out, pushing past him and leaving the waiting room.

Gil watched her go with stunned silence, bewildered. He stood there for several minutes, staring out the window of the waiting room. He didn't see Sara emerge into the parking lot, so he had no clue where she had gone. With a sigh, he turned, finally walking to the nurse's station.

"May I help you, sir?" the nurse asked.

"Yes, I'm looking for Catherine Willows," Gil told her.

She tapped in Catherine's name, finding her room number. "She's in room 316," the nurse informed Gil. She hesitated, then asked, "Are you Gil Grissom?"

Gil blinked, wondering exactly how this woman knew his name. "I…yes, I'm Gil Grissom," he finally answered. "Why?"

"You've been all over the news," the nurse explained, "With what happened this morning." Grissom stared back at the nurse, who further elaborated, "You've been labeled a hero, Mr. Grissom. You saved those two women."

Gil was silent for several long moments before finally smiling weakly at the nurse. "I'm not a hero," he finally answered. With that, he turned and headed down the hallway that would lead him to Catherine's room.

He arrived at the door and hesitated before he stuck his head in Catherine's hospital room, his eyes sadly taking in the small figure lying on the bed. Her exhausted eyes were focused on Lindsay as her daughter sat on the edge of the bed, softly talking to Catherine. Lindsay was holding Catherine's hand carefully, the younger Willows stroking Catherine's cheek as they talked.

Catherine looked pretty good, Gil observed. The only visible signs of her injuries were the two heavy braces on her wrists to protect the torn ligaments and bones, the thick black fabric stabilizing her wrists. Beneath those braces, however, Gil knew bruises encircled her wrists, her fair skin darkened from not only the pressure of the handcuffs but the continuous pulling that Cena had inflicted on Catherine. Underneath her hospital gown, Gil knew that her ribs were heavily wrapped due to the two broken ribs she had suffered when Cena had viciously kicked her in the stomach. Other than that…there was sure to be a fairly large bruise on the base of her neck, but Gil was grateful that there were no lasting effects from that, at least according to the MRI that the doctor had insisted on.

Gil stood in the doorway unnoticed for several long minutes, simply watching Catherine and Lindsay. While Catherine looked somewhat better, dark circles had formed under her eyes, and it was obvious to any onlookers that she was exhausted. A quick glance at his watch confirmed that it was 7:30 in the evening, and Gil figured Catherine had been up for at least twenty-four straight hours, if not more.

Finally, Lindsay noticed Gil standing at the door, and she beckoned him into the room. "Hey, Uncle Gil," Lindsay said with an exhausted smile of her own.

"Hi," Grissom said as he entered the room, the exhaustion showing on his face as well. "How are you two doing?"

"Good," Lindsay replied. "Better now that I've seen my mom."

Catherine offered a half-hearted shrug in response. She was so tired, yet she couldn't seem to close her eyes. Seeing the worry in Lindsay's face at her lack of a response, Catherine quickly stated, "I'm fine, baby. I'm just tired, and the painkillers are making me really listless."

"I can go," Lindsay replied. "I need to get to bed soon anyways. I have finals tomorrow for one of my classes, so…I need my sleep."

Catherine nodded, smiling at Lindsay tiredly. She allowed her daughter to wrap her arms around her, mindful of her injured ribs, weakly lifting an injured limb to hug her daughter back. The two women hung on for several moments before Lindsay leaned back, her hands still on Catherine's arms.

"I love you, mommy," Lindsay said softly, so softly that Gil almost didn't hear her. She pressed her head against Catherine's, closing her eyes briefly.

"I love you too," Catherine replied, her voice thick with emotion. She pressed her lips to Lindsay's cheek for several long moments. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked, not wanting the tears that were threatening to spill over to do so.

"Of course," Lindsay answered, clearing her throat.

"Good luck with your final," Catherine said to her daughter.

"Thanks, mom," Lindsay replied. The younger Willows turned to Gil, hugging him tightly. "Bye, Uncle Gil," Lindsay told him. "Take care of my mom."

The statement was so quiet that Gil nearly missed that, too. He tightly hugged Lindsay and whispered, "I will. Good night, butterfly."

Gil and Catherine watched as Lindsay exited the room before turning their attention to each other. "Hey," Catherine finally said, leaning back against her bed, wincing in pain.

"You okay?" Grissom immediately asked, worry spreading across his features at her pained expression.

"I'm fine," Catherine answered quietly. "I just moved too fast."

Grissom nodded, moving next to her, pushing the chair closer so that he could sit next to Catherine. "So how do you feel?"

"Like I just went ten rounds with King Kong," Catherine joked. Seeing no hint of a smile or laughter from Gil, she sighed and replied, "I'm okay. I'm just really sore."

"What hurts?" Gil questioned.

Catherine contemplated this, then replied. "At the moment, I actually feel okay, probably because of the painkillers and all. But…my wrists are sore, and my ribs do hurt a bit. My neck doesn't hurt that badly, thankfully." Grissom nodded, bowing his head briefly. "Are you okay?" Catherine asked him gently.

"I…don't know," Grissom admitted. "That was a horrible ordeal, and I'm just relieved that you're okay."

"Me too," Catherine replied with a small smile. "I'm glad you weren't hurt. You or Sara."

Gil reached a hand up, covering her hand with his. He gently stroked her injured wrist, feeling the rough material of the brace, contemplating his next words. "I hate that you were the one hurt," he finally said.

"Gil…don't go there," Catherine warned softly. "What happened, happened. I wouldn't have wanted you to be a superhero at my expense and wind up hurt or…or worse."

"I know, but…"

He trailed off, and Catherine stated, "No buts. Gil…it's over. Cena can't hurt me anymore, thanks to you. I owe you my life for that."

Gil closed his eyes as he responded, "I just feel so terrible that…that you had to go through..." He paused, struggling to find the right words. "Through all of that," he finally finished.

"I know…" It was all that Catherine could say. She had no clue what to say to her former supervisor…her friend.

Grissom finally opened his eyes, blue meeting blue. He cleared his throat, then asked, "So how long are you stuck here?"

Catherine shrugged again. "I'm hoping that they spring me tomorrow, but I think that they want to monitor my ribs for a few days. The doctor said that they are worried about a lung potentially collapsing, so they want to be careful about that. The doctor also said that he's going to have a surgeon come in to talk to me about my wrists," she told Gil. Seeing the alarm in Gil's face, she elaborated, "Apparently torn ligaments can cause pain later in life if they aren't repaired right away, but we'll see."

"I…God, Cath, that sounds so horrible," Gil replied.

Catherine laughed slightly, shaking her hair from her face. "With everything that I've seen and been through in my life, Gilbert, a little surgery is the least of my worries," she said softly. "But I appreciate your concern."

Grissom nodded, sighing slightly. He carefully wrapped his fingers around Catherine's, lifting her hand and pressing a kiss to her fingers. "Whatever happens, I'll be here for you," he told her.

They locked gazes for several long moments before Catherine nodded, her gaze falling to their interlocked fingers. Slowly, her eyes drooped, and Catherine fell asleep. Gil bowed his head, resting his forehead against the sheets as he too dozed, their hands remaining locked.

Unbeknownst to the pair, however, Sara Sidle watched this scene from the door.

~/~

End 10/14


	11. Bar

I know, I know…I don't have a good excuse other than work caught up to me and blah blah blah. Please read and review, as I looooove getting reviews and it makes me smile and get the next chapter out faster!!!! Plus, I'm trying to beat my highest reviewed story, and there are only a few chapters left of this one, lol. Enjoy!

~/~

"Catherine? What are you doing here? I thought that you were off for another week."

It was Nick that had spotted Catherine first as she slowly made her way into the crime lab, and she had to smile to herself. She hadn't expected different of a reaction from Nick, who was the acting supervisor in her lengthy absence.

Carefully, she turned, meeting Nick's confused gaze as he leaned against the doorframe to his office, several files in his arms. "Technically, I am," Catherine answered. "I just wanted to come in for a few hours to do some paperwork. I'm bored stiff sitting at home, and I know that there are a ton of reports that needed to be signed off a couple of weeks ago before…well, before the courtroom spectacle, so…yeah."

"Catherine…you gotta be careful," Nick told her. "I don't want you to overdo yourself."

Catherine smiled wryly. "Not only do you sound like my doctor, but you sound like Lindsay, too," she informed Nick. "She told me that she's setting her alarm for 3:15 AM, and if I'm not home at that point, she's coming to the lab and quote: dragging my butt home, unquote." She finished off Lindsay's quotation with finger quotes.

Nick laughed briefly, then sobered as he asked, "How are you doing, Catherine?"

Catherine considered his question, then replied, "I'm feeling better everyday. The bruise on my neck finally vanished a couple days ago, and my wrists are getting stronger by the day. I won't be lifting any weights anytime soon." Seeing the look of amusement on Nick's face, she wryly added, "Not that I would be lifting weights anyways. However, I actually sent out a long email yesterday."

"How are your ribs?"

Catherine sighed, considering her answer, then said, "They're still a little sore, especially if I get up after sitting too long or stand for awhile. But on the other hand, if I move too much or too fast, they hurt then. It's like I can't win."

Nick nodded sympathetically. "I broke a rib playing football, so I know what you mean. It can be a pain."

"Oh, trust me when I say that I can't wait for them to completely heal," Catherine said with a small smile. She leaned against the wall, her hand instinctively coming up to cradle her ribs. "How are things going here? Is everyone treating you well?"

"Yeah, everything is going well. You don't have to lecture anyone," Nick answered. "Hodges is driving me nuts, though."

Catherine couldn't help but laugh. "Welcome to my world," she said dryly. She shifted uncomfortably, hoping that Nick would be the one to end the conversation so that she could sit down. She hated to be rude, but she was really sore, as much as she didn't want to admit it.

Nick noticed her discomfort, and quickly said, "Well, it's good to see you 'kind of' back, Cath. Let me know if you need anything?"

"Of course, Nicky," Catherine answered, pushing off the wall and rubbing his shoulder as she passed him. Nick watched as she slowly made her way to her office, sighing.

She was too damn stubborn.

Catherine turned on the lights to her office, looking around. It was left the way it had been left two and a half weeks ago before the horrible day in court. She made her way into the office, closing the door gently before settling down in her chair. She looked around her office, relishing the fact that she was able to actually admire her office. She almost hadn't made it back here. For the last couple of weeks, she had been very thoughtful and pensive, tears welling up in her eyes as she thought about all that she could have lost had the events in the courtroom ended differently. Thank God for Lindsay. She had been a rock for Catherine for the last couple of weeks. There were points where Catherine would be crying in the middle of the night thanks to yet another nightmare, and Lindsay had come in her room to comfort her, much like the nights following Eddie's death.

"_It's okay, Mommy…it's okay."_

Catherine felt a lump form in her throat, and her eyes instinctively settled on the picture on her desk of Gil and Hank. It was one that she had taken a few months back when the pair had gone for a walk, and she had framed it and stuck it on her desk as a reminder of her best friend when he left CSI. As silly as it seemed, the picture reassured her often and she often would look to the picture for support, or even a clue when she was stumped over a case. Not that Catherine would ever admit that she was stumped, of course. She swiveled in her chair, taking in the pictures that lined her shelves. The first one was of her and Gil. It was taken at the Christmas party two years ago. The two had been dancing when Nick had snapped a photo of them, holding hands and smiling. Then, there was a picture of her and Lindsay that had been taken at a picnic many years ago that went perfectly with the one of her and Gil.

Sighing, Catherine turned back around, turning on her computer and waiting for it to boot up before starting on her paperwork.

She had only been working for an hour when she noticed the dull ache settling in her hands. While her wrists were feeling better earlier, the continuous motion of typing causing her limbs to be stiff. Catherine settled back in her chair for a brief moment, flexing her hands as she stared off into space.

"_There's more to life than work. It's a lesson I learned from your predecessor." _

Catherine wasn't sure why, but Hodges' words from a case a few months ago rang through her mind. While she had been puzzled as to what Hodges meant, for some reason, those words now made complete and total sense. Nevertheless…she couldn't apply them to her life, at least at the moment…

Especially since she was alone.

Catherine was startled back to Earth when her cell phone rang. She frowned when she saw the name, wondering why he was calling so late.

"Hey, Gil," she answered the phone. She winced and held the phone from her ear when a loud noise of static mixed with voices emitted through the speaker, and then the line went dead. "Hmm," Catherine murmured softly. She waited a few seconds, then started to call him back when her phone rang in her hand. Catherine smiled briefly, then answered. "You gonna hang up on me again, Gil?" she asked.

More static and voices. Catherine frowned again, holding the phone from her ear. "Gil!" she called into the phone. "Gil, are you there?"

The line went dead. Catherine rolled her eyes. She wondered if Gil was accidentally calling her somehow. She wondered where he was. Wherever it was, it was pretty noisy.

Yet again, her phone rang. With another smile, she flipped it open. "All right, Grissom, is the third time the charm?" There was no answer, and Catherine called, "Gil? Are you there?"

Finally, his voice answered her. "Hey, Cath," he said.

"Hi, Gil," Catherine answered. She shifted in her seat, resting the phone between her chin and shoulder. "Where are you? I can barely hear you."

"Ah…so you don't know where I am, huh? That's for me to know and you to find out, CSI lady."

Catherine sat up straighter. _Something's not right. _"Gil, are you okay?" she finally asked after a long moment of silence. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Catherine. Why does something always have to be wrong?"

"Gil…are you drunk?"

"Maybe."

Catherine closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Gil, where are you?" she asked.

"You know where I am," Gil answered in a sing-song voice, his voice giddy with laughter.

"No, I don't Grissom, or I wouldn't have asked you!" Catherine replied angrily.

There was a long pause. "You're mad at me."

Catherine allowed her head to drop, massaging her temples with her fingers. "I'm not mad at you, Gil," Catherine told him softly. "I'm just concerned for you. Where are you? Is Sara with you?"

"Sara's gone."

Catherine blinked. "I…excuse me? What do you mean?"

"She's gone."

"Well…where did she go?"

"Dunno. Don't really care, either." Gil sounded deflated. "Hey, I'll take another scotch!"

Catherine stood slowly from her chair, not wanting to jar her injured ribs as she reached for her keys. "Gil, honey, I'm coming to get you. Can you tell me where you are?" she asked softly.

"You know where to find me." With that, he hung up.

Catherine cursed, the expletive falling from her lips as she picked up her purse. She slung it over her shoulder, then held the phone in front of her as she dialed the number from heart. When it went straight to voicemail, she groaned loudly.

She exited her office, waving distractedly to Nick and Ray as she left the building. She pulled herself up into her Jeep, settling back as she dialed Gil's number again. "Come on, Gil, where the heck are you?" she asked the silence in her Jeep when his phone rang continuously. "Damn it!" Catherine sighed as his voicemail picked up.

"_You know where to find me." _The statement rolled through her mind, and she thought carefully.

_Where are you, Gil?_

She ran her options through her mind. Was he at The French Palace, where she had met Gil for the first time? She thought back to their first meeting.

_Catherine slowly danced in front of the group of men at the French Palace, all of them hooting and hollering as she bent over in front of them. She shuddered slightly as she felt one of the men pull on the elastic band of her thong, tucking money between her skin and the band. She managed to smile at the man, moving down to one of the men who was seated at the table, seemingly lost in his own world. _

_He looked uncomfortable and out of place as he swirled his drink. Nevertheless, Catherine slowly danced in front of him; her curiosity peaked when he seemed startled that Catherine was dancing in front of him. "What's the matter, sugar?" she purred, her body dangerously close to his as she gyrated in front of him. "Never gotten a lap dance before?"_

"_I…no, actually, I haven't," he stammered, his face red even in the darkness. "I…I'm Gil."_

"_Well, Gil," Catherine whispered silkily, "This is the point where you stick money in my thong."_

_She had wanted to laugh at the alarmed look on his face as he frantically looked in his wallet, pulling out a $20. He eyed the bill warily, and then his curious eyes moved to the garter belt on her leg. "Can I…can I stick it there instead?" he asked._

"_Oh, trust me, honey. You can stick it anywhere you'd like," Catherine laughed huskily. She turned her body and stuck her leg out slightly. Gil hesitantly tucked the bill through the elastic, smiling up at Catherine uncomfortably. _

"_Thanks honey," Catherine told Gil. _

_She started to go to the next client, only to hesitate when Gil called out, "Hey." Catherine glanced back, smiling at the man in an invitation to continue. "What's your name?" _

_Catherine was surprised that he wanted to know. Most men who came to the French Palace weren't interested in names; they were interested in getting a lap dance, or more. Contact between a stripper and clients were forbidden, but everyone knew that there was sex going on behind the scenes. But this man…he seemed genuinely curious about her, and wasn't sleazy or perverted like the other men in the building. "I'm Catherine," she finally answered him. _

_Gil stuck out his hand and Catherine accepted it. "It's nice to meet you, Catherine," he said. She smiled again, though this time it was in confusion, before moving along to the next patron._

It hadn't ended there. Catherine danced six nights out of the week, and then partied every night until the wee hours of the morning. She had come across Gil a few more times when she worked at the French Palace, and then one night he had surprised her and asked her to meet him for coffee. Against her better judgment, she agreed. They had talked until the sun began to rise over Las Vegas. During that time, Gil had found out that she had an interest in forensic science and had convinced Catherine to take night classes in order to earn her Bachelor's Degree in Medical Technology. Despite her misgivings, she decided to pursue the degree, and hadn't looked back since then.

_Wait a minute,_ Catherine thought. _Is Gil at the place where we had coffee that night? _She started to turn on her car, only to freeze when she remembered that the coffee shop had burned down years ago thanks to arson. She remembered the sad look that had crossed Gil's features as he watched the flames eat away at the old building, so many memories between the two of them going up in flames as well.

_Where could he be?_

There was the Highball, where she had first met Adam Novak. However, Gil wouldn't go to a place that had caused such strain in their friendship for a point, would he? She certainly didn't expect so. Then again, she hadn't expected him to go and get drunk, and…

"Come on, Catherine, think," she said aloud. She sat there, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, ignoring the twinge of pain it was causing in her wrist. Catherine frowned slightly before a stroke of genius hit her. "That's it!"

She turned on her car and backed out of the parking spot before speeding off to the location where she was sure Gil was. Catherine thought back to that night, the night before she had gotten married to Eddie Willows.

_Catherine had accepted Gil's invitation for drinks…well, drinks for him and water for her…the night before she was marrying Eddie. The two had sat in content silence for several long minutes before Gil's sad sigh prompted Catherine to ask him what was wrong._

"_Catherine…" Gil trailed off, finally looking up from his drink to meet her eyes. "I don't understand why you have to marry Eddie."_

"_He loves, me, Gil," Catherine said wearily. "I'm pregnant, and he's the father of my child. I want my daughter to grow up with a father."_

"_You can do better, Catherine," Gil tried to reason. "You don't need him."_

"_But I do, Gil," Catherine whispered. "I know that it doesn't seem like it, but I know that he loves me."_

"_If he loved you, Catherine," Gil said softly, bringing his fingers up to touch the bruise under her right eye, "He wouldn't do this." His fingers moved to the cut on her left cheek. "Or this." His fingers found the material of her long sleeved shirt before they finally settled on the delicate skin on her wrist. "Or this."_

_He laced his fingers through hers. "Gil…" Catherine said softly. "I…I'm sorry."_

"_Don't do it, Catherine," Gil pleaded with her, cupping her small hand in his larger ones as he stared at her. "Don't marry Eddie. Have this baby, continue your education, and just forget about him. You'll do fine, and I'll always be here for you."_

"_I can't," Catherine whimpered. "I just can't leave him."_

_Gil sighed heavily, pulling his hands from Catherine. Nevertheless, she grabbed his hand back, causing Gil to look up at her. He was shocked at the intense look in her eyes. "Cath…" he trailed off._

"_Please, promise me, Gil, that you'll still be here for me. Don't leave me just cause I'm marrying Eddie," Catherine begged him. "I can't bear to lose you."_

_Gil squeezed her hand before pulling Catherine into a gentle hug. "I'll never leave you."_

It hadn't taken Catherine long to arrive at the bar, and his words washed over her repeatedly. _I'll never leave you._ She pulled her license and wallet out of her purse, tucking the leather bag behind the passenger's seat. She pocketed the two items, then exited her vehicle.

She made her way into the bar, her inquisitive eyes searching the patrons for the man she was looking for, her eyes settling on the lone figure at the bar. Catherine walked over to him and sat down next to Gil, not speaking as she watched him forlornly stir his drink. He glanced up, meeting her gaze with glassy eyes. "See," he slurred, a lopsided grin playing at his lips, "You knew where to find me!"

"That I did," Catherine patronized him. "What are you doing?"

"Drinking away my sorrows," Gil answered, squinting at Catherine. "I've done a lot of stupid things today."

Catherine cringed inwardly. "What have you done, Gil?" she asked. Seeing the waiter gesture to her if she wanted a drink, she shook her head. As tempting as it was to order the strongest drink possible, she was apparently playing designated driver tonight. Not only that, but the pain medicine she was on had a multitude of warnings on the label about not mixing them with alcohol, so she could imagine what would happen if she were to mix alcohol on the medicine. One of the two had to be level headed tonight, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be Grissom.

"Well, to start, I kind of gambled away the wedding fund…who would have thought a red two, a black jack, and a black…something wouldn't have made a good poker hand?" Gil laughed loudly. "Oh, well, it's just money! It's not like I need it for the wedding now!"

"Gil…what did you mean when you said Sara's gone?" Catherine asked him. "What's going-"

Gil held up a finger in her face to silence her, and Catherine stopped talking. She frowned. _This isn't my Gil…_

"Here you go, Catharino!" Gil laughed loudly at her apparently new nickname as he held a folded piece of paper in front of her face. It had obviously been folded and refolded several times. "Read 'em and weep!"

Catherine had to resist rolling her eyes. Instead, she focused her energy on unfolding the crumbled note. She could almost hear Sara's voice as she read over the handwritten words quickly.

_Gil – _

_I've always loved you. You know that. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you more than I can describe. However…I know that you aren't ready, nor will you ever be, for the commitment to spend the rest of your life with me. It's something that I should have realized from day one. From the first day I came from San Francisco to Las Vegas, I saw the way that you two looked at each other. Whether it was at breakfast or during a case, the two of you had a connection. Even when you were fighting, there was a spark between the two of you. _

_When we started to date, I thought that I had a chance. You stuck with me through so much: my kidnapping and my initial departure from Vegas. When Warrick died, we found each other again. But then I left, but you still found me in Costa Rica. I thought that we had a chance. Then, James Cena entered our lives._

_Gil, that day in the courtroom was horrible, from Catherine to the witnesses who saw what happened. All of us, even you (even though you will never admit to it), were traumatized. I was terrified too, Gil. However, the only focus for you in that room was her, Gil. You completely ignored me, and in those moments that I watched you, I realized something. You love Catherine Willows._

_Don't try to deny it. You've done that for way too long, Gil. The way your hands ran over her body as you comforted her, the fear that was in your eyes, the way that you focused on nothing but her…There's no denying that there's still that spark between the two of you that I saw when I first came to the team._

_I cannot compete with that, Gil, emotionally or mentally. Therefore, I'm calling off the wedding. I'm going back to Costa Rica, but don't bother attempting to find me. I'm finished with us. I will always love you and care for you, but we're done. Follow your heart, Gilbert Grissom, and don't let her slip away again. _

_Yours,_

_Sara_

Catherine closed her eyes, the magnitude of the implications in the letter hitting her full force. She tried to control her breathing, and after several long moments, she opened her eyes. Gil was watching her, his gaze mixed with loneliness and anticipation.

"I don't know what to say, Gil," Catherine told him honestly. "I'm really sorry. Maybe I can find Sara-"

"No, don't do that," Grissom interrupted her. "She'll likely sick her crazy friend on you."

Catherine shuddered inwardly at the thought of Elizabeth. "It's okay," she said with a small smile. "I could take her."

Grissom stared bleakly at her, finally smiling a bit. He turned his attention back to his drink, stirring the amber liquid before speaking. "It's not like she's even worth it anyways."

"What do you mean?"

"This is the third time she's walked away from me. You would have thought I would have learned my lesson the first time, but no. What a fool I was," Gil said, taking a long drink of his scotch. Catherine watched worriedly as the liquid vanished from the glass all too quickly. "Another one, sir," Gil called to the bartender.

"No," Catherine said quickly, and the bartender and Gil looked at her, surprised. "Sorry, Gil, but you've had enough," she told him.

His eyes flashed with anger, and Gil said, "I think I'm adult enough to decide when I've had too much to drink, Catherine."

"I'm sure you are, Gil," Catherine replied. "But I'm not going to allow you to drown yourself in your sorrows. I've been there, done that, and it's not worth it." She turned to the bartender. "Can you get him water, please?"

She turned back to Gil, not shocked to see him glaring at her. She met his steely gaze, blue on blue battling for control. "I'm glad that you decided to turn into my mother, Catherine," he finally spat bitterly.

"I'm trying to keep you from doing something that you're going to regret in the morning," Catherine explained patiently, slipping the bartender a five dollar bill as he slid the water in front of Gil.

"Why do you even care?" Gil muttered, turning his barstool so that he was facing away from Catherine. He stirred his drink with the straw before begrudgingly taking a sip.

Catherine reached forward, laying her hand on his. She didn't speak for several long minutes, silently imploring Gil to look at her. When he finally did look at her, she spoke up softly. "I care because I always have. For as much shit as I've put you through, Gil, you've always stuck with me. And I'm not going to turn my back on you when you need me the most."

Gil was silent for a long time before finally turning back to her and replying, his voice thick with emotion. "Why would she leave me, Cath?" he asked softly.

She sighed in response. "I don't know, Gil. I really don't know. I wish that I knew the answer to that. But you know what?"

"What?"

"You have people who care for you, still. I do, Lindsay does, Nicky does…heck, I'm sure that even Hodges contacts you daily with emails or phone calls, right?" Grissom smiled briefly. "People still love you, Gil. I know how bad it hurts for someone you love to leave you…believe me, Gil, I know that. But it will get easier for you. It takes time for the hurt to ease, but you're going to be okay."

Gil slowly nodded. "I still miss her."

"I know, honey," Catherine replied. "Believe it or not, I still miss Eddie at some points."

"Why?" Gil asked incredulously. "Cath, the way he treated you…you didn't deserve that!"

"I know, I know," Catherine replied. "But just…he was the father of my daughter, Gil. Not everything was horrible. Granted, I will never forgive him for the abuse, or the cheating, but…there was still a part of me that loved him." She shrugged, unsure of how to continue.

Gil contemplated this, then answered, "I suppose that I can understand that."

Silence fell over the duo. Gil stared at the liquid swirling in his glass, and Catherine finally spoke up. "Look, you've had a lot to drink tonight," Catherine finally said. "Why don't I take you to my place so you can sleep off whatever you've drank and tomorrow we can come back here for your car?"

"I don't want to impose, Catherine. I'm sure that I'll be fine driving."

"Like hell," Catherine answered. "You're not driving, so hand over the keys." Gil stared at her blankly, and she slid off the barstool carefully, a hand on her ribs. "Buddy, I'm sore, tired, and hurting, and if you make me wrestle those keys away from you, you're going to regret it." Finally, Gil dug his hand into his pocket, handing over his keys begrudgingly. "Thank you," Catherine said, pocketing his keys. "But if you puke in my Jeep, you're paying to have it cleaned out."

~/~

Gil stood quietly behind Catherine, his hands in his pockets as Catherine fumbled with the doorknob, unlocking the door to her house. _God, she's so beautiful…_Gil thought to himself. He could see the outline of the bandages wrapping her ribcage through the thin shirt that clung perfectly to her body. Shakily, he reached a hand forward, resting it against her lower back, feeling the outline of the bandages.

Catherine turned when she felt his hand on her back, her eyes seeking his. Gil never touched her except professionally. This, however, was an intimate gesture. Her eyes questioned him, and Gil spoke up sheepishly. "I…do they hurt?"

She shrugged in response, turning so that her back was against the unopened door and that Gil had to reluctantly move his hand. "A little bit," she admitted uncomfortably.

Gil didn't hear her response, however…he was too busy watching her lips.

_Her soft, luscious, kissable lips._

"Gil, what are you doing?" Catherine asked, pressing herself even more into the door, as if she could melt through it.

He didn't answer; rather, he gently pressed his lips to hers.

Catherine felt his hand come up to the base of her neck, pulling her even closer to him. Her eyes instinctively slammed shut, and she moaned in pleasure as his lips covered hers.

_This isn't right…_

"Gil, I can't," she muttered breathlessly, pulling away. She reached behind her, opening the door and walking in, Gil following closely.

"Why not?" he asked, snaking an arm around her waist. He held her carefully as he looked into her eyes, his own dark with desire. "I could take you right here and now."

Again, his lips pressed against hers, and she fought her body's natural reaction to this. "Gil, please," she pleaded, pulling away and backing up. "I don't want this right now."

"Why not?" he asked again. "Don't you want me?"

"I…I do want you, Gil." Hope rose in his eyes, and he advanced. She held up her hands, placing them on his chest. "I do want you," she repeated. "However, I don't want you when you're drunk and not in control of your thoughts. I don't want you to regret this in the morning."

"Oh, trust me, I won't," Gil grinned. Before she could react, he wrapped his arms around her again. "You're so gorgeous, Catherine." She didn't reply, only moaning in pleasure as Gil kissed her gently.

Catherine grunted as Grissom backed her against the wall roughly, his body close enough to hers so that she could feel exactly how turned on he was. She again moaned in content as his lips found her neck. Grissom pressed light kisses down her neck, his hands coming up underneath her shirt.

Once again, reason rose up in Catherine's brain, and despite the pain in her wrists that it took to do so, she shoved Gil back yet again. "Gil, stop," she warned, putting some distance before her and the drunk man once again.

His head dropped, and then he looked at Catherine. "Don't you want me?" he asked, his voice laced with hurt. Catherine didn't answer, and he sighed. "I'm gonna go," Gil muttered, turning to the door. "I'm not wanted here either."

"No, Gil," Catherine shot forward surprisingly fast for someone who was recovering from broken ribs. She grabbed his wrist, only to squeak when he turned suddenly, crashing his lips against hers once again. It threw Catherine off balance, and the two tumbled to the ground, and Catherine groaned slightly at the twinge in her ribcage when she hit the hard floor. Nevertheless, Gil's arms gently encircled her waist, holding her protectively against him as he grinned at her.

_Oh, Jesus…_Catherine thought. _This isn't good. _"Gil," she said softly. "This isn't comfortable for me to be lying on the floor. It's hurting my ribs."

"We can go to the couch," Gil suggested, raising his eyebrows at her.

She wanted to groan again. In his drunken stupor, Gil honestly thought that she wanted to sleep with him. "Gil…please, just try to listen to me," she said softly. "This isn't you. You don't do one night stands, and if we were to do anything, I know that you would regret it in the morning."

"I wouldn't regret it now," he answered, his lips again assaulting hers.

Catherine pulled her face back sharply. "What if I would?"

Her words stopped him cold. "You don't want to be with me?" Gil asked, the hurt in his voice obvious once again. Catherine didn't answer, and he struggled to stand.

Wincing in the pain that was coursing through her ribs and wrists, Catherine clamped her arms around his waist. Gil struggled to stand, surprisingly strong for someone who was drunk. He got to his feet, but Catherine twisted her body, using her legs to tangle up his, and he fell gracelessly to the ground on his stomach. She quickly moved her body over him, attempting to pin his body to the ground.

"Damn it, Gil, stop moving!" Catherine hissed in his ear, the adrenaline surge quickly wearing thin as she attempted to get Gil to stop moving. _Shit, this isn't good,_ she thought as Gil stood despite Catherine clinging to his back. She clamped her arms around his neck in case he decided to attempt to shake her off, then blurted out, "Of course I want to be with you! I just don't want this to be a mistake or a rebound, or something that we'll regret in the morning!"

"Mom, what is going on?!"

Catherine and Gil both looked toward the stairs, shock on their faces as Lindsay stood there, a mixture of shock, fear, and anger on her face.

~/~

End Chapter 11


	12. Bed

Thanks for all the positive feedback in the last chapter. I forgot to mention a few things in my haste to be at work on time in the last chapter. (I really should try this "Waking Up On Time" thing at some point…) First off, huge thanks go out to HappyHarper13 for her advice on the last chapter (and many other previous ones). My version of the last chapter was much different, and she helped guide me in the right direction for that one, so thanks! Also, thanks to PamEargle for her eagle eyes in discovering some amazing pictures in Catherine's office. They were a huge inspiration for a few scenes in the last chapter. Finally, I hope that I didn't make Grissom too OOC for you. I wanted to show his vulnerable side, and the fact that he picked up on some of Sara's bad habits (Thanks, Harper!). Add to that, alcohol makes people do very stupid things, no matter who they are. I hope that I conveyed that through my writing.

Anyways, enjoy chapter 12, and please read and review! I'm getting quite a few story alerts/subscriptions, which I am eternally grateful for, but take a sec to let me know what you think! Only 26 reviews to go before I tie my personal record! lol

~/~

Catherine wanted to laugh, but only for a second. She could only imagine what this looked like: Gil was standing, and she was desperately clinging to his back in an attempt to avoid falling to the ground. One leg was wrapped around his arm, her arms encircled around his neck in an attempt to stop him from leaving.

The urge to laugh quickly dissipated when Gil shook her leg off of his arm, surprised by the fact that Lindsay had appeared at the bottom of the steps. Even in his drunken state, he knew that this didn't look good to the younger Willows. Unbalanced, Catherine lost her grip on Gil, falling unceremoniously to the ground with an indignant grunt.

Her wrists were presently aching, most likely thanks to repeatedly shoving Gil away from her. So, she used her forearms to pull herself up using the back of the couch. _Asshole! _Catherine wanted to spit the word out at Gil, but managed not to when she saw Lindsay looking between the two adults. Disappointment, annoyance, and a slight twinge of fear were mixed on Lindsay's features as she stood there, her arms crossed. She glared at her mother and Gil, who was currently shuffling his feet as he stared at the floor, finally realizing his actions.

Lindsay tore her eyes from Gil to settle accusingly on Catherine. "When I said that I wanted to know when you got home, I didn't mean that I wanted to hear you and a guy getting it on!" Lindsay yelled at her mother. It wasn't just a loud voice, either; Lindsay was yelling at the top of her lungs. Catherine winced, realizing what her daughter was thinking. She opened her mouth, only to snap it shut when Lindsay cut her off. "I'm not finished!"

"Young lady, you do not talk to me that way!" Catherine sputtered indignantly when she got over her shock of Lindsay cutting her off. She shook her tousled hair out of her face and continued. "Who do you think-"

"I didn't expect to hear you and a guy, least of all Gil!" Lindsay continued as if Catherine hadn't spoken. "What the hell, mom?! Did you even go to the lab? You could have told me the truth if you were going out to a bar or something!"

"It's not like that, Lindsay! Gil called me-"

"So you decided to go to a bar with him and come back here, knowing that Gil and Sara are engaged?"

Catherine's features hardened, and she crossed her arms as she glowered at her daughter, realizing what Lindsay was implying. "Young lady, you may be seventeen years old, and I may be hurting, but do not think that I won't put your hide over my knee," Catherine said lowly. "You will treat me with respect, especially when we have company over."

_Even though the company wasn't exactly welcome and she was about to throw his ass out on the lawn to sleep off his alcohol induced state._

Lindsay finally flinched, glancing at Gil. He seemed to be ready to collapse on his feet, and she was worried that he was going to pass out. "I'm sorry, mom…but you know what this looks like…" she trailed off.

"Well, it's not that," Catherine snapped at her daughter.

Gil glanced at the door, then said to Catherine, "Uh, I should be going…"

"You don't move a muscle!" Catherine growled at him, making sure he was staying put before turning her fury back to her daughter. "Gil called me because he and Sara broke off their engagement." She left out the part about Sara blaming Catherine for being the reason for the engagement being broken off, feeling that her daughter didn't need to know everything. "I didn't want him driving home since he's been drinking, so I brought him here. Obviously, things got a little out of hand, but it's nothing that we can't handle as adults."

"But mom…you guys were kissing-"

"Like I said, Lindsay…things got out of hand. Gil's drunk, and while it's not an excuse, he's not really in control of his actions," Catherine told her daughter, glancing at Gil.

"You do realize I'm standing right here, don't you?" Gil slurred, dragging his toe across her carpet.

"Yes, Gil, we realize that," Catherine answered, exasperation playing in her tone.

"Good. Then don't talk abou-"

Catherine ignored him, turning her attention back to Lindsay and speaking over Gil. "Go to sleep, honey," she said softly. "We'll talk about this more in the morning, okay?"

Lindsay glanced between Gil and Catherine, doubt on her features. "Mom…" she trailed off, uncertainty on her features.

Catherine suddenly realized why she was so hesitant. Catherine knew that Lindsay was thinking back to all the times Eddie stumbled in the house at three AM, drunk, only to get into a shouting match with Catherine. Nine times out of ten, that shouting match ended with Eddie punching Catherine in the face, and she just knew that her daughter was thinking that her beloved Uncle Gil might be turning into the same monster as her father.

"Honey, come here," Catherine said softly. Lindsay hesitantly came around the couch and stood in front of her mother, not making eye contact as she examined the rug. "Lindsay, Uncle Gil would never hurt me," Catherine told her daughter confidently, glancing at Gil for confirmation. He nodded slowly in agreement, and Catherine thanked God that he apparently had enough wits about him to agree with her. "He's really upset about Sara, and turned to alcohol. While that's not the best thing to do in this situation, he just needed something to help him with the pain," Catherine explained. "Gil's not going to do anything like what Daddy used to do to me, I promise."

Lindsay nodded, suddenly throwing her arms around Catherine's waist. Catherine sucked in a breath as her daughter pressed against her injured ribs, but nonetheless hugged her daughter back. "Why don't you go back to bed, honey?" Catherine asked. "It's a school night after all."

"But mom…" Lindsay trailed off, looking at Gil briefly before glancing back up at her mother. "Can you…can you handle him?"

Despite the tense situation, Catherine smiled down at her daughter. "I can always handle him," she joked with her daughter. "How do you think he stayed supervisor for so long?"

Lindsay smiled back wearily, finally letting go of her mother. She hesitantly made her way over to Gil, looking up at him.

Gil looked down, unsure of what to say to Catherine's daughter, especially if the younger Willows had just caught him attempting to force himself on her mother. To his shock, Lindsay quickly hugged him gently. "Let my mom take care of you," Lindsay whispered to Gil.

Gil hugged Lindsay back carefully. "I will. Good night, butterfly."

Lindsay didn't spare a second glance back as she scurried up the steps, leaving the two adults to stare awkwardly at each other.

"Look Gil-"

"Catherine, I-"

Their voices mingled with each other, and with a wave of her hand, Catherine indicated that Gil should speak first.

He dropped his head, his chin braced on his chest. "Look, Cath…it was a mistake for me to call you. I should go," Gil started.

Catherine closed the distance between them, placing a gentle hand on Gil's arm. "Gil. It wasn't a mistake for you to call me. I'd rather you call me then you be driving while you're not in the right frame of mind, or drunk," she told him.

"But…what I've done tonight…for me to try to force myself on you…it's inexcusable. You don't deserve that," Gil replied.

Catherine used her fingers to lift his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Gil…it's okay. I'm not mad at you," she told him. "You're drunk, but I know…I know in my heart that you would never hurt me."

Gil stared at Catherine for several long moments before finally hesitantly wrapping his arms around her waist. Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck carefully. Gil closed his eyes, even in his drunken state realizing exactly how close they were, their bodies swaying in unison to the silence.

Catherine stood on her toes, pressing her lips to his forehead for a brief moment. Just as fast as they were there, though, she pulled back. "Come on, Gil," she said softly. "Let's go to bed."

Even with the pain that was shooting through her hands, Catherine reached down and grasped his hand with both of hers, tugging him towards the stairs. Gil followed behind her hesitantly, using his free hand to steady himself on the railing as he clumsily made his way up the steps.

Moments later, Catherine was pulling Gil into her bedroom. He swallowed nervously, thinking back to the last time they were in her room together. They ended up sleeping in the same bed together, and then hours later getting into one of the worst fights they'd ever had. Gil glanced at Catherine, the tension obvious on his face.

Seeing the worried look on Gil's face, Catherine shook her head slightly. "Gil, I'm not going to sleep in here," she said. "You can have my bed and I'll sleep on the couch. I just came in to get something more comfortable to sleep in."

Gil watched Catherine walk to her dresser, opening the center drawer and pulling out a pair of boxer shorts and tank top. She walked to the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

When she exited five minutes later, changed into the shorts and tank top, Gil was standing in the same spot. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, the long strands peeking out from the black elastic band. Gil supposed that it was done pretty well for someone who had two sprained wrists. His eyes trailed over Catherine's slim form as he silently watched her walk to her clothes basket, dropping her dirty clothes in there. She was in great shape for someone her age, her years of dancing obvious in the saunter her toned legs offered, Gil realized. The tank top was thin enough so that he could see the wrap around her midsection that was protecting her damaged ribs, and the black braces covering her wrists were stark against her fair skin. His eyes trailed up to her neck, and Gil was relieved to see that the bruise had finally faded. The only noticeable wear on Catherine's body after the turmoil she had been through was the braces on her wrists. Gil supposed he should be thankful for that and not the fact that James Cena had been ready – yet failed – to put Catherine in a body bag.

And he wouldn't hesitate twice to shoot the son of a bitch again.

Catherine felt his gaze on her, and with a slight shiver, she turned around, looking critically at Gil. He looked like he was ready to fall over, yet he looked to her with pleading eyes. Saying a brief prayer to herself for sanity, she stepped forward, gently pushing Gil backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed. Catherine didn't need to tell him to sit down; he automatically did so.

Kneeling, she pulled his shoes off, letting them fall to the floor at the base of the bed. Her fingers found the button of his pants, and with a quick flick of her fingers, the button was undone. Gil lifted his hips, allowing Catherine to tug his pants off. She dropped them next to his shoes, then turned back to him. Her fingers worked quickly over the buttons on his shirt, and she pulled his shirt from his shoulders when they were all unbuttoned.

He sat on the edge of her bed in his boxers and undershirt, staring up at her with glazed eyes. Catherine sighed softly, making her way over to the covers at the head of the bed, turning back the sheets. "Come on, Gil, lay down," Catherine coaxed.

Gil complied, crawling under the sheets and silently watching Catherine tuck him in. She felt Catherine pull his glasses off, and listened to the soft clink as she set them on her nightstand next to her spare reading glasses. Instinctively, Catherine bent down, pressing a light kiss against his lips. "Sleep well, Gil," she whispered, reaching up to turn off the light next to the bed.

"Wait, Catherine," Gil called softly. "Don't leave me. I can't…I mean, I don't want to be alone." The hesitation was clear on Catherine's face, and Gil added, "I'm not going to do anything. I promise."

She finally nodded, turning off the light and walking around to the other side of the bed. Having danced for many years, she was used to ambling in the dark. She crawled into bed next to Gil.

He rolled over, his arms uncertainly encircling Catherine. When she didn't pull away, Gil gently coaxed her closer. She complied without hesitation, pressing her head against his chest. The rhythmic beating of his heart combined with her exhaustion was enough to lull her to sleep within seconds.

~/~

Catherine wasn't sure what woke her, but the warmth of Gil's arms were almost enough to make her want to go back to sleep. She lay quietly in the protective embrace of Gil, listening for whatever it was that had woken her. Seconds passed before she heard a set of footsteps quietly padding down the steps.

_Lindsay…_

With a slight sigh, Catherine carefully removed herself from Gil's arms, not wanting to disturb the sleeping man. Granted, he was out cold, but she still wanted to make sure that he got as much sleep, without interruption, as possible.

Standing, she faltered slightly as she moved, her ribs protesting the sudden movement after sleeping so soundly for three hours. She took a minute to catch her breath then made her way out of her room. She descended down the steps and made her way into the kitchen, watching her daughter from the doorway.

Lindsay was still dressed in her pajamas, and looked exhausted as she began making the coffee. There were dark circles under her eyes, and Catherine felt a stab of guilt when she realized that her and Gil's 3 AM argument had probably woken her daughter, and had probably kept her up until she had woken up for school.

She was about to clear her throat when Lindsay looked her way, jumping slightly when she saw her mother there. "Geez, Mom, could you make some noise?" Lindsay asked, placing a hand over her heart. "You scared me half to death!"

"Sorry, honey," Catherine said, padding into the kitchen and easing herself down into one of the kitchen chairs. "Did you get back to sleep?" she asked.

"About an hour ago," Lindsay admitted with a shrug. She saw the guilt on her mother's face, and hastily added, "It wasn't your fault…well, totally. I just…I have other things on my mind."

"Is something wrong?"

"I…uh…nothing's wrong, per say," Lindsay hesitated, watching the coffee drip. She glanced at her mother. "Do you want coffee?"

"No, sweetie…thanks, though. I think that I'm going to lay back down when you leave for school," Catherine answered. She patiently waited for Lindsay to continue, knowing that her daughter was stalling.

Lindsay stared at the coffee for several long moments before sighing and turning to her mother. "I'm thinking of turning down the University of Delaware's offer."

Catherine's first instinct was to scoff and tell her daughter that there was no chance in hell that she was turning down a full scholarship, but she stopped herself just in time. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, but instead chose to ask, "Why?"

Lindsay gave a half shrug that was identical to her mother's trademark one, and said, "I dunno."

Catherine raised an eyebrow, waiting several long moments for Lindsay to continue. When she didn't, Catherine spoke gently. "So you're going to give up a free $80,000 education because you 'dunno'?"

Lindsay glared at her mother, turning back to the coffee pot when it chimed, signaling that the coffee had finished brewing. "It's not about that, Mom, and you know it."

"What's it about, then?" Catherine prodded, watching as Lindsay poured her coffee, adding milk and sugar to the cup.

Lindsay turned again, tears brimming at her eyes. "I almost lost you," she finally whispered.

"Oh, honey," Catherine said as she stood, walking over to her daughter. She didn't hesitate as she pulled her daughter into a fierce hug. Immediately, the floodgates opened, and Catherine had to bite her lip to control her emotions as well. "Honey, I know. But I'm still here, that's all the matters."

"I don't…" Lindsay paused, fighting to control the tears that were spilling from her eyes. "I don't want to have to come back to bury you," Lindsay admitted, looking up at her mom. "I hate that you're in the field, in danger every night that you work. I don't want to lose you."

"I know, Lindsay," Catherine repeated, resting her head against Lindsay's. "I don't know what to say or do that will make you feel better."

"Can you quit?" Lindsay looked up at Catherine with huge eyes, and Catherine simply held her daughter closer.

"I…honey. I wish I could, but I can't," Catherine whispered. "I can't just quit."

"Why?"

"A lot of things, Linds. I can't afford it, first of all, and there's also the fact that I can't just leave my team hanging," Catherine told her. "They've been through a lot with Gil leaving, and I just can't walk out on them without any notice."

"But mom-"

"No buts, honey," Catherine cut her off, looking at her daughter with watery eyes. "I can't guarantee that I won't get hurt on the job again, but you know what? I could be driving to work, and get hit by a car, or walking across the street. You never know when something is going to happen, and the only thing that you can do is pray that God will watch over you. I know he watches over me, and you. He was with me…" she hesitated for a moment, then pushed forward, "He was with me a few weeks ago in that courtroom and I know that there's a reason that I lived."

Lindsay was silent for a few moments, then rested her head against Catherine's shoulder. "I'm sorry, mom."

Confused, Catherine asked, "For what, honey?"

"For last night…I overreacted. I was scared that Uncle Gil was going to hurt you, and for some reason I blamed you. I…I dunno, Mom, I kinda blamed you for what happened in that courtroom the other day, too."

Catherine blinked slowly, wondering how her daughter could possibly blame her for something that was out of her control. Granted, it was the same thing that Catherine was doing to herself. She had constantly blamed herself for what had happened, wondering over and over if she had pushed Cena over the edge and caused him to snap. She couldn't help but wonder if she could have prevented the deaths of the two bailiffs and the terror that Cena had unleashed on the courtroom.

Still, to hear it from her daughter…

"I can understand that, honey," Catherine said slowly, a tear trickling down her cheek unwillingly as she pulled away from Lindsay, turning her back to her daughter. "Believe me when I say I blame myself for that."

"Oh, mom, I'm sorry!" Lindsay said hastily. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it that way. I mean…I did blame you at first, but when the pieces of the puzzle came together, I realized that there was nothing that you could do. In fact, you probably saved Gil and Sara's lives due to your bravery."

"But two men lost their lives thanks to my stupidity, and there could have been more," Catherine answered brokenly.

Lindsay placed her hand on Catherine's shoulder, bowing her head. "Mom…it's not your fault," Lindsay finally said, noticing how tense Catherine's shoulders were. "I'm sorry for what I said."

Catherine nodded, working to regain her composure before she turned around. Lindsay dropped her hand to her side, fiddling with the tie on her pajama pants. "So are you really going to give up a scholarship because of me?" Catherine finally asked, changing the subject effectively. "I've already caused enough havoc in your life-"

"Oh, mom, stop it!" Lindsay cut off her mother. "There has been nothing negative that has happened in my life that was due to your actions!"

"I missed so many of your dance performances-"

"-because you were working your butt off to make a living for us."

"You were kidnapped-"

"-because someone had a grudge against Grandpa."

"Your father died-"

"-because he made poor decisions," Lindsay finished for Catherine. Before she could try to list another way that she hurt Lindsay, the younger Willows added, "That's not your fault!"

Catherine was silent for several long moments, feeling a headache rising. Lindsay was almost too much like Catherine, and she found it hard to keep up with her daughter when they were arguing. Lindsay had a counterpoint for every one of her points, and vice versa. It was a constant battle for one upping the other, and with very little sleep, Catherine wasn't in the right frame of mind to argue.

Finally, Catherine shook her head. "Linds, it's too early and I'm too darned tired to get into a sparring match with you," she said.

Lindsay chuckled, pulling her mother into a hug. "I love you, mom. Always."

"I know, baby," Catherine answered, pressing a kiss to Lindsay's head. "Promise me one thing?"

"What's that?"

"I'm not going to tell you that you have to go to the University of Delaware. However…listen to your heart, honey. Don't make the same mistakes that I did," Catherine told Lindsay. "You have a wonderful opportunity. Don't give it up for me."

Lindsay nodded, hugging her mother tightly. "Is Uncle Gil okay?"

"He's sleeping," Catherine answered. "He'll be okay."

"Are you mad at him for what he did this morning?"

"I'm a little annoyed that he tried to take advantage of me, yes," Catherine admitted. "But I'm over it already."

"Good," Lindsay said. "Alcohol sucks, doesn't it?"

Catherine couldn't help but chuckle at her daughter's straightforward statement. "That it does, honey. Use that as a lesson. Now you better hurry and get ready for school. If you're too tired, I can call you out of school, though. I know you were up late."

"I'm fine, mom," Lindsay assured Catherine. "I went to bed pretty early and didn't wake up until I heard you two. Love you."

"I love you too."

~/~

Half and hour later, Catherine watched as Lindsay backed out of the driveway, waving to her mom before heading down the street toward school. Wearily, Catherine closed the door, making her way up the stairs before gratefully crawling back into bed, not hesitating as she cuddled up to Gil's warm chest.

He forced his eyes open, meeting Catherine's gaze sleepily. "What were you doing?" he asked drowsily.

"Just talking to Lindsay," Catherine answered. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's fine…is she okay?"

"She's fine."

"Is she mad at us still?"

"No."

"Did she get enough sleep?"

"Not really, but she's going to school anyways," Catherine answered, wrapping her arms around Gil. She couldn't help but notice how natural it felt, and that she wouldn't mind doing this every morning…

"I'm sorry, Catherine," Gil said quietly, closing his eyes. "Not only did I cause a lot of tension between us last night, but I made your daughter uncomfortable and upset…"

"It's okay, Gil, it's not a big deal," Catherine said with a slight yawn. "I'm not going to hold your pain against you. You were hurting last night. I can understand your reactions."

"I could have hurt you," Gil whispered.

"Yeah, but you didn't," Catherine countered gently. "I know you, Gil. You would never hurt me purposely."

Gil swallowed, forcing his eyes open. "Cath…thank you for everything that you've done. You're such a wonderful friend," he told her.

"I'm just me, Gil," Catherine answered with that million dollar smile he was used to. She pressed her lips to his forehead. "You know that I care for you and don't want anything to happen to you, ever. All I want is for you to be happy."

Gil swallowed, meeting Catherine's gaze. She was shocked by the intense look in his eyes. "I think that I'm falling in love with you, Catherine," he admitted. The words were spoken softly, yet were as clear as day.

Her heart fluttered at his words. It was something that she dreamed that he would one day say, and to hear him actually utter those words was amazing. Granted, it was out of the blue, but she just knew deep down in her heart that he meant those words.

"I know, Gil. I've been there awhile. Do you…do you think that we can try…well, this?"

"I think that we're already there."

And with that, he pressed his lips to hers.

~/~

End Part 12/14

It's getting kinda Grillows-y in here!


	13. Bride

Howdy! Here's chapter 13! Usually I hate the number 13, but this chapter was one of the easiest that I've ever written. The words just flowed continuously, nearly – if not more than – 4,000 words in less than four hours or so (as compared to chapter 9, where those 7,000+ were tweaked, retweaked, added, taken away, etc. over a course of like three weeks). So go Team Me, haha. Maybe it's the fact that I have a sexy duo in Grissom and Catherine to write about, lol.

Anywho, enjoy, read and review, I don't own CSI/characters/etc. We're in the homestretch, folks! Happy Memorial Day!

~/~

_* Four Months Later *_

Catherine tiredly forced her eyes open when she heard the front door open, listening for the familiar sound of Gil dropping his keys on the table by the door to confirm it was him and not Lindsay. If it were her daughter, she would have heard Lindsay's purse dropping to the floor.

Sure enough, a few seconds after the door quietly shut, his keys clanked as they were set on the table. She smiled sleepily, looking up at Gil as he carefully padded into the living room and glanced down at her on the couch.

"Hey honey," he said softly when he saw that she was awake, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek before kneeling next to her.

"Welcome home," Catherine answered.

Gil smiled to himself, his heart skipping a beat when she said the word home. Over the past four months, he had spent less and less time at his own home. In fact, most of his belongings were at Catherine's, and they both knew that it was only a matter of time before Gil sold his house and made it official that he and Catherine were living together. And that felt…_perfect. _He pushed the sappy thoughts aside, though. "Why aren't you sleeping in bed?" he asked, tugging at the afghan that covered Catherine.

"I came down here for one of the pain pills and I didn't feel like walking back upstairs," Catherine explained, stifling a yawn.

Gil's eyes traveled down to the gray sling around Catherine's neck. The white cast that was around Catherine's left wrist peeked out from the fabric of the sling, and he settled his hand on the plaster. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he asked sympathetically. He knew that Catherine had to be in a lot of pain to actually take one of the Percocet that her surgeon had prescribed. With her other surgery on her right wrist two months ago, she had been fortunate to just be able to take Tylenol to help with the pain.

"Uh huh," Catherine answered, a slight whine evident in her voice. "The other one didn't hurt this bad."

"I'm sorry, honey," Gil said soothingly, pressing his lips to the cast. He hated seeing Catherine in pain, but he also knew that the surgery on her wrists were necessary so that she didn't suffer from severe wrist pain later on in life. The first surgery on her right wrist had been successful and she had recovered quickly, most likely due to the fact that that was her dominate hand.

Gil hated, however, that she was even in this position, and it was all due to James Cena. He held a lot of anger toward the deceased man, and while he wasn't typically a violent man, if he hadn't of shot Cena in the courtroom, then he would have killed him at some other point. It wasn't fair that Catherine had to go through all the pain and suffering thanks to that lunatic.

Catherine lifted her right hand, settling it against Gil's cheek, letting her fingers linger as she asked, "How was your class?"

"Good," Gil replied, his hand covering hers, his finger tracing the tiny scar on the underside of her wrist. "The students are ready to get out of college for the last couple of weeks of summer, though. They are getting that glassy eyed 'end of the semester' look."

Catherine smiled briefly, though her heart twinged at the realization that in less than two weeks, she and Gil would be flying with Lindsay out to Delaware in order to help her move into the University of Delaware's dormitories. When she boarded the plane to go back to Las Vegas, however, it would be without her daughter.

She couldn't help the yawn that escaped, and she smiled sheepishly at Gil. "I'm sorry," she said. "The pain medicine may not help with my actual pain, but at least it makes me drowsy enough so that I fall asleep."

"There's no need to apologize, Cath," Gil chastised her softly. "How about we go upstairs and I'll lay down with you for awhile?"

"I'd like that," Catherine answered.

Gil helped her to her feet, his arms around her waist as she swayed slightly. "You okay?" Gil asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I'm fine," Catherine answered, yawning again. "But we better hurry before you're carrying me up the steps."

"I wouldn't mind that," Gil told Catherine. "It would make me feel like a gentleman." Without a second thought, he swung his arms under Catherine's knees, sweeping her carefully into his arms. He laughed at the somewhat indignant squeak that emitted from her lips, and before she could protest, Gil told her, "You're not going to hurt me, I'm not going to drop you, and I'm not putting you down, so save your breath."

Catherine wisely shut her mouth. She brought her right arm up, securing it around Gil's neck. He carefully held her, making sure that her arm was comfortably settled in her sling before making his way to the steps.

He carefully carried her up the flight of steps, making his way to her – _their _– bedroom, settling Catherine carefully on the bed. He quickly stripped down to his boxers, tossing his shoes to the side of the room as he crawled into bed, pulling the covers over the pair. He took off his glasses, setting them on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

Catherine lay on her side, her eyes drooping lazily as she gazed at him. Wordlessly, Gil slid her arm out of the sling, tossing the cloth garment aside. He wrapped his arms around Catherine's waist, pulling her to him, being mindful of her wrist, not wanting to jar her injury. He pressed his lips against her forehead tenderly. "I love you, Catherine," he whispered.

"I love you too, Gil," Catherine answered back, her eyes drifting closed.

Gil's heart fluttered in response. No matter how many times she said it, it was special each time to him. His eyes drooped as well, and he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

~/~

When Catherine woke up three hours later, the pain in her wrist had settled into a dull throb. While this wasn't exactly the most pleasant feeling in the world, it beat the previous feeling that she had had, which was akin to someone repeatedly smashing her arm with a sledgehammer.

_Or someone handcuffing her way too tightly and repeatedly pulling on the handcuff chain…_

Catherine glanced at Gil, a lazy smile playing on her lips when she saw her boyfriend of the last four months gazing back at her. "Hi," Catherine said softly.

"Hi yourself," Gil answered, raising a hand and brushing a few errant strands of hair out of her face. "You feeling any better?"

"A lot," Catherine told him. "I still feel kind of drowsy, though. I don't want to get out of bed."

"That's fine with me," Gil slyly replied, adding an over exaggerated wink at the end.

Catherine groaned in response. "You're lucky that I'm lying on my right arm, or else I would smack you," she joked in response. She glanced at the cast, lifting her arm slightly. "Though I could knock some sense into you with this thing…"

Gil chuckled deeply, pressing his lips against Catherine's in a passionate kiss. "I love you so much," Gil told her when they broke apart.

"I know," Catherine told him back. "I love you too; more and more every day, in fact. You do something new everyday that is just adorable and perfect, and I think that I fall in love with you just a little bit more."

"Oh, Catherine," Gil answered softly. He buried his face into her hair, fighting to control his emotions. "Why did we wait so long for this?"

"I don't know," Catherine replied. "But who cares? We have each other now, and we will have each other for the rest of our lives."

Gil nodded, his fingers blindly finding Catherine's left hand. He grasped her fingers as best as he could without hurting her, his touch as light as feathers as he glanced down at her hand. "Let's make it official, Cath. Let's go to one of those infamous Vegas wedding chapels and we'll get married," Gil suggested. "No hoopla, no fuss: just me, you, and Lindsay."

Catherine blinked, the implication of his words hitting her full force. She knew that Gil was totally serious about the proposal. She opened her mouth to reply, only to shut her eyes when the phone rang.

"Ugh, if that's Ecklie, I'm going to kill him," Catherine groaned. "Not only am I on medical leave but he just ruined a serious moment!"

Gil laughed heartily, pressing a too-short kiss to Catherine's lips before rolling out of bed to grab the cordless phone that sat on their dresser. "Hello?" Gil asked. A slight pause, then he said, "I'm doing well, Lily…she's doing well, not in too much pain. In fact, she just woke up from a nap…you want to talk to her? Okay."

He passed the phone off to Catherine, who placed it to her ear. "Hi, mom," Catherine said into the phone, more of her attention focused on Gil crawling back into bed rather than her mother on the phone.

"Hi, honey. How are you feeling?"

"I'm doing okay," Catherine said. "I was in a lot of pain earlier, but I feel better now."

"That's good."

"How are you?"

"I'm doing well. I actually just got out of a meeting with some lawyers that were involved with some of Sam's casinos, which is part of the reason I called you, actually," Lily told Catherine.

"Oh, really?" Catherine asked, her curiosity somewhat peaked. She sat up, leaning against the headboards as she smiled at Gil.

"Yeah, it turns out that Sam had a couple of last requests written into his will, and one of the requests kind of involves you, Catherine. Indirectly, at least…" Lily trailed off.

"What about me?"

"Apparently, in the event of his death, Sam wanted fifty percent of his casinos to go to his business partner, and the other fifty percent to go to me," Lily explained.

"I thought that all of his casinos went to his partner, though," Catherine wondered aloud.

"So did I," Lily answered. "However, there turned out to be updated copies of his will that no one knew about, with the changes that I just told you about."

"Okay," Catherine answered, unsure of what this had to do with her. "Why did you have to meet with the lawyers?"

Lily chuckled wryly. "Needless to say, Sam's partner wasn't too happy about these new changes."

"I can only imagine."

"Brian was always a selfish bastard, and I don't want anything to do with him, personally or professionally. So, I told him that I would gladly sell him my fifty percent of the casinos, for a healthy profit, of course."

"Way to go, mom," Catherine chuckled.

"Oh, yes, indeed," Lily answered.

"What does this have to do with me, though?"

Lily sighed softly, contemplating her words. "A week before he died, Sam made me promise that if anything ever happened to him, that I would make sure that you were financially stable."

"I'm doing fine for myself, thank you," Catherine said with a laugh. "I actually make decent money for a CSI supervisor. It's not 'take a limo everywhere that I go' money, but I manage."

"I know, I know," Lily said. "However, as your loving mother, I want to give you half of the profit that I get from Sam's casinos."

"Mom, you don't have to do that!" Catherine exclaimed. "Sam left those casinos for you, not me." She glanced at Gil, seeing the curious look on his face. "It's your money, and-"

"-and I want to give you half. It's up to me, and it's settled. You will have a check within two business days, and you will be cashing that check whether I have to drag you to the bank myself."

Catherine was silent for several long moments, unsure of how to respond. "Mom, I don't know what to say," Catherine finally said.

"Just say thanks," Lily replied with a laugh.

"Thank you, mom," Catherine said, stunned.

"You're welcome, my darling." There was silence, and Lily asked, "Don't you want to know how much you'll be getting?"

"I…I kind of do, yeah," Catherine admitted.

When Lily rattled off the figure, Catherine was glad that she was seated. The number that Lily told her made the $250,000 check that Sam had given her years ago look like chump change. "Mom!" Catherine finally managed to squeak. "That's way too much money!"

"And it's yours," Lily said with a laugh. "I love you, Catherine."

"I love you too," Catherine answered numbly. She hung up the phone, looking at Gil.

"Are you okay?" Gil couldn't help but ask. Catherine looked dangerously pale, and for a second he thought that she was going to pass out. "What did your mom say?"

Catherine continued gazing at Gil. "I…uh…I'm going to have a lot of money within the next two days," Catherine informed Gil.

"What do you mean?"

Catherine quickly explained the conversation she had with her mother to Gil. When she repeated the figure that Lily had told Catherine, he merely blinked. "Whoa," he managed. "That's…a lot of money."

"Tell me about it," Catherine answered, stunned. She glanced at Gil, smiling. "You sure you don't want a huge wedding now?"

Gil chuckled slightly, his hand covering Catherine's. "Cath, I don't care if we have five guests or five thousand guests, I just want to marry you, and as soon as possible, preferably."

Catherine nodded. "I…this actually solves a lot of problems, actually," she admitted.

"What do you mean by that?"

Catherine sighed, bringing her gaze down to the blankets on her bed. "I've wanted to…ah, resign from CSI for awhile now," she admitted. "I just…even before the whole thing with Cena, I've wanted to leave. That kind of just sped up the desire to get out of there."

"Why did you want to leave?" Gil asked.

She didn't answer him for a few long seconds, and finally, she replied. "I just…I don't know, Gil. We worked together for nearly twenty years, and we'd known each other for even longer than that. It's not the same without you there, and I don't like it. Don't get me wrong, I love my team, but…there's days where I'm stumped or lost or just need a jolt and…you're the one that I need. I miss you, Gil. Even though we're together now, I still miss you. When I get home, I'm going to bed as you're on your way to class. I wake up, and we have maybe a few hours together before I'm called into work because swing is backed up.

"I want more out of life, Gil. I've waited so long for you, and I don't want to waste away the rest of my life running fingerprints or staring into a microscope when you're sitting at home waiting for me to return so we can see each other for a few hours. There's so much to see in this world that I don't want to miss. This…gift from my mother and Sam? It's a blessing in disguise. I can happily retire and we can be financially stable for the rest of our lives." She finally stopped talking, meeting Gil's gaze. "What are you thinking?" she couldn't help but ask. He had that inquisitive gaze that drove her crazy in both a good and bad way.

Gil squeezed her hand. "I think that we have some decisions to make," he told Catherine. "I think you know what you want. So what are we going to do?"

~/~

Two days later, Catherine and Gil walked hand in hand towards the break room at the crime lab after a long meeting with Conrad Ecklie. Catherine's arm was in the sling still even though it felt much better than the last couple of days. The doctor had ordered her to wear it for at least a week before taking it out of the sling.

Catherine stood there, smiling to herself as she looked into the room. Everyone that she directly worked with was there. Greg and Riley were engaged in a conversation on the couch, their knees closer than they should have been. Nick leaned over the back of the couch, listening to the pair as they discussed whatever they were talking about. Ray was seated at the table, reading a forensic journal and sipping a cup of coffee. Doctor Robbins was pouring himself a cup of coffee, while Hodges and Brass were discussing a case in the corner. Hodges pointed something out to Brass, who nodded in response. The captain looked pleased, so Catherine could only guess that whatever it was that Hodges had shown him was a good thing.

It was Nick who noticed Catherine and Gil in the doorway. He nudged Greg with his elbow, gesturing to the door. "Pay up, man. I told you she'd be back within four days this time!" he exclaimed to Greg.

"Very funny, Nicholas," Catherine said with a roll of her eyes. "I'm not here to work." She stepped into the room, pulling Gil along with her.

"Well, when are you coming back?" Hodges spoke up.

"Ha, you think that I'm going to give you guys any advantages in this little office pool? Nice try," Catherine answered him dryly. With her first surgery, she had found out that the members of the grave shift had a bet going on about how soon Catherine would return to work, even though the doctor had recommended taking at least a month off. Riley had won that bet, and $75, by saying that Catherine would be back in a week. "I actually just had a meeting with Ecklie, and I wanted to stop in to say hi," Catherine explained. "Sorry, Nicky," she added.

Nick shrugged nonchalantly, a smile playing at his lips to show that there was no hard feeling about being out of a few dollars. He opened his mouth to reply when his eyes zeroed in on her left hand peeking out of the cast. "Uh, Catherine? Is that an engagement ring?" he asked.

"No, Nick," Catherine replied. "It's actually a wedding ring." She pulled Gil's left hand up with her right one, showing off the matching ring on his left hand. "That's part of the reason that we came here tonight."

There was stunned silence in the room, then Doc Robbins started to applaud. The rest of the team joined in, and Catherine and Gil blushed. "It's about time you two came to your senses," Brass called.

"I know, I know," Gil said. "We just decided that we've waited for each other so long and that we're not going to wait any longer. So, yesterday, Catherine, Lindsay, Lily, and I went to one of those drive through chapels and said 'I Do'."

Greg laughed heartily. "You mean to tell me that you two actually went and got married by Elvis?!" he asked.

"Actually, it was an alien," Catherine told him. There was another string of silence in the room before everyone laughed again. "What? I'm serious. I have the photos to prove it!" she exclaimed above their laughter.

"Well, congratulations, you two. You're a match made in heaven," Doc Robbins said. "Are you going to have a reception or anything?"

"We haven't really discussed that," Catherine admitted with a glance to Gil. "It's a distinct possibility, though."

"What's the other part of the reason you came here tonight?" Hodges couldn't help but ask. He had picked up on the second part of Catherine's statement earlier, and was curious.

Catherine smiled at Hodges. She had hoped that someone would have heard her statement earlier, because after the joyous news that she and Gil had just shared, she wasn't sure how to break the next bombshell.

Upon hearing Hodges' question, and seeing the hesitation in Catherine's face before she spoke, the mood in the room sobered. The slight…but encouraging, squeeze of Catherine's hand by Gil did not go unnoticed by Greg or Nick, who glanced at each other.

Catherine sighed, looking at the faces watching her expectantly, waiting for her to speak. They were her extended family, and she cared for them as much as they cared for her. "I, um…I just had a meeting with Conrad to discuss my future as a CSI," Catherine finally spoke up. "As of December 31st, I will no longer be the supervisor here. I'm retiring early."

Everyone looked shocked at the news, except for Ray, Catherine noticed. He held a knowing look in his eyes, and it peaked Catherine's curiosity. "Um, Nicky will be grave shift supervisor, and Greggo will be assistant supervisor," Catherine explained, shaking off the curious feeling that Ray's gaze had left her. "Conrad is thinking of making some of the lab techs crime scene investigators because he doesn't want to hire a new CSI Level One, but that is up to him." She looked over the room, noticing the stunned looks seemed to be dissipating somewhat. "Okay?" she asked gently.

Gil smiled to himself, thinking that that was the exact same way that he ended the impromptu meeting where he announced that he was leaving CSI. However, this time, there was no beeper calling Catherine to a crime to break the shockwaves that emanated the room. He squeezed Catherine's hand in support once again, smiling down at her as he kissed her forehead. "I love you, Cath," Gil told her, his voice tinged with pride at his wife.

"I love you too," Catherine responded, leaning into his side.

"Oh, get a room you two!" Nick joked, breaking the somber mood.

"I just have one question," Brass spoke up. Once all eyes were on him he continued, "Can we have cake in the break room for you, Catherine?"

Gil laughed, squeezing Catherine's waist before pulling away and stepping up to Nick. He shook his hand, and Greg and Riley moved in to also congratulate their former boss.

"Hey, Ray, can I talk to you for a second?" Catherine asked, gesturing to the hallway.

"Ooh, Ray's gotta see the principal," Greg called.

"Very funny, Greg," Catherine said wryly before stepping into the hallway, Ray following behind. There was a slight twinkle in his eye, and Catherine had a feeling he knew what this was about.

"What's up, Catherine?" Ray asked smoothly, leaning against the wall.

Catherine contemplated her words, shuffling her feet. "I don't know, Ray," she admitted. "I'm just a little curious."

"Curious?" he repeated. "About what?"

"You ah…didn't seem shocked about my announcement in there," Catherine said with a one armed shrug.

Ray smiled, lifting a hand in surrender. "I wasn't."

"Why?"

Ray chuckled. "Catherine, I've seen the pictures of you and Gil in your office. It's obvious to everyone that you two are meant for each other, and with everything that happened a few months ago, be it the whole courtroom situation or Sara leaving Grissom, I knew that you'd be married and out of CSI before the year was over," Ray explained.

Catherine considered his words, and then nodded slowly. "It was that obvious to a newcomer that we were in love with each other?" she finally asked.

"Uh huh," Ray answered. "The way you two look at each other is…unmatched, to say the least. I know couples that have been together for many years who don't even look at each other the way that you two do."

"I just wish that we didn't wait so long," Catherine quietly admitted to Ray.

"You have your whole life ahead of you, especially now that you are leaving," Ray answered. "Do yourself a favor, Catherine."

"What's that?"

"Don't look back."

~/~

End Part 13/14

What did you think? I hope that everything was clear with the part about Lily and Sam, and with Catherine deciding to leave CSI.

Also, I'm turning back on my anonymous reviews. I ask that anyone who truly has a problem with my story, however, to be mature about it and actually submit a signed review. I can delete offensive reviews with one click, trust me. Thanks. =)


	14. Beginnings

Well, I'm sad to say that this is the end, for real this time. Please see the Author's Note at the end of the story for more.

~/~

Catherine stood in the center of Lindsey's dorm, slightly frustrated as she watched Gil and Lindsay struggle to move the bed to the back corner of the tiny dorm room. Catherine found it hard to believe that one person could live in these small quarters, let alone two. However, the bed that was on the opposite side of the room, freshly made with a small, ratty teddy bear told Catherine that Lindsey's roommate had already unpacked and was missing in action at the moment.

She itched to help them, but the cast that was on her left wrist was a warning sign not to overdo herself. She was already getting yelled at by Lindsay and Gil not to lift anything heavier then a sweatshirt, so she wasn't about to join them in The Battle of the Heavy Bed.

After all, she was already on both of their bad sides.

Her arm was still in the sling, most likely due to the fact that she kind of went overboard at work and got dizzy while frantically attempting to finish up some paperwork before heading home at the end of her shift – since she actually had something to go home to now. The next thing she knew, Catherine had stumbled over an upturned corner of the carpet in her office and had landed directly on her surgically repaired wrist. The string of curses that left her mouth was nothing like what Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders had ever heard come from Catherine's mouth before when they rushed to her office to assist her.

A trip to the emergency room later, a scolding from Gil, Lindsay, and her doctor, and Catherine was back in her sling for at least a month. Not only that, but she had given the team an opportunity at another pool of how much she would ignore the doctor and how quickly she would return to work.

Greg won that bet.

Finally, with a grunt, Gil shoved the bed back the final few inches that they needed it to be. He and Lindsay panted in unison then glanced at each other. Gil held up his hand for a high five, which Lindsay gladly returned.

"Thanks, Gil!" she said, brushing a hand over her sweaty brow. "I won't need to workout tonight!"

Gil chuckled, hugging his stepdaughter to his side. Catherine felt her heart flutter as she watched the scene of affection before her. She supposed that she was incredibly lucky that Gil and Lindsay already got along so well, but Lindsay had accepted Gil easily to the role of her stepfather. They had always been close, but Catherine had been kind of nervous that they weren't going to get along now that he had literally taken over the father role in her life. However, after a long discussion between the trio, everything was seemingly okay. Lindsay had told Gil and Catherine that she didn't want to call Gil 'dad' in order to address him, which Gil understood. He loved Lindsay and considered her as a daughter, and knew that she looked at him as a father, but he completely accepted that she wasn't going to call him that. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't a little relieved, too…

Gil's gaze shot over to Catherine as she subtly lifted a suitcase with her right hand and placed it on the bed, using her thigh to swing it up. "Catherine Grissom," Gil started, putting his hands on his hips.

"Gilbert Grissom," she mocked him. "I'm not using my injured wrist, so cool it."

"You're not supposed to be lifting anything, one handed or not!" Gil exclaimed. "That's what Lindsay and I are here for."

"I'm sorry, Gil, I just hate feeling so helpless," Catherine admitted. She stuck out her lower lip and asked, "Forgive me?"

"Just this time," Grissom warned, pulling her to his chest and hugging her carefully, being mindful of her arm. He pecked her on the lips, and then said, "Now let's get to work here."

A few hours later, Catherine was putting the picture of Lindsay, Gil, and Catherine on the day they were married on Lindsay's dresser, straightening it and looking at it happily. They all looked great. Gil was wearing a simple black suit with a light blue shirt and black tie. Catherine wore a light blue dress, her hair swept back in a loose ponytail. Lindsay wore a simple yellow dress, and the three of them looked relaxed and happy as they smiled for the picture.

She glanced over her shoulder, smiling to herself as she watched Lindsay tuck in the corners of her bedspread, spreading the material out until there were no wrinkles. This would probably be the only time that her daughter's bed was ever made within her college stay.

Finally, Lindsay turned away from her bed, looking at her mother and Gil, hesitation clear in her gaze. "I uh…suppose this is it?" Lindsay said uncertainly.

Catherine felt a lump rise in her throat as she saw how young and fragile her daughter suddenly looked. "Come here, honey," Catherine told Lindsay.

It didn't take more than that for Lindsay to cross the small space between the two of them and throw her arms around Catherine's waist. The older Willows cursed the uncomfortable sling restricting the movement of her left arm, hugging her daughter fiercely with her right arm for several minutes as she rested her chin on the top of Lindsay's head. Lindsay buried her face in Catherine's shoulder, sniffling. She felt tears dripping down her cheeks, landing in Lindsay's hair. She was also vaguely aware of Lindsay's tears soaking her shirt as they clung to each other. Gil watched this scene, struggling to keep the lump in his throat contained, but an occasional tear slipped down his cheek as well. He knew how much…despite the ups and downs…those two cared for each other.

Finally, after several long minutes, Lindsay pulled away, a brave look on her face. She took a deep breath, looking up at her mother with watery eyes. "Mom, I love you so much. I'm sorry for being such a brat a few years ago," Lindsay blurted out.

"Oh, honey," Catherine said, a smile coming to her face despite the tears running down her face. "You don't have to apologize. And you weren't a brat!"

"I was too! I was a pain in the butt."

"You were not!" Catherine countered. "You were a teenager, Linds. You're supposed to be a pain!"

Lindsay finally returned Catherine's smile. "You confirmed that I was a brat, mom."

"What?! I did not!"

"Yes, you did," Lindsay said wryly. "You said that it was my job to be a pain; therefore, you're calling me a brat."

Catherine paused, realizing her daughter was right. "I didn't mean it that way, Lindsay!"

Lindsay laughed, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I know, mom." With that, Lindsay composed herself. She looked at Catherine for a long time. "Thanks, mom, for helping me move out here. I know it's hard, but…I'm ready."

Catherine took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "I know, honey." She worked to compose her emotions. "Lindsay…I love you, and I've loved you since the first time that I held you in my arms. Call me at anytime, okay? I don't care what time of the day or night it is, honey."

"Okay," Lindsay said softly. She hugged Catherine once more before turning to Gil. She hugged her stepfather fiercely. "I love you, Gil," Lindsay told him. "Make sure that you keep my mom out of trouble, would you?"

"You know I will," Gil replied thickly, holding Lindsay close. "Take care of yourself, butterfly."

He let go, and with a squeeze of her hand, Catherine indicated that she was ready to leave. "I'll call you when we get ready to board the plane tomorrow?" Catherine asked Lindsay.

"Okay," Lindsay said uncertainly. She took a deep breath, watching as her mom – _her parents_ – walked hand in hand to the door. "Bye, guys."

The door shut quietly, and it was only then that Catherine and Lindsay burst into their simultaneous tears.

~/~

Catherine lay on the bed of the Pennsylvania hotel, occasionally sniffling as she stared up the ceiling of the room. Apparently, Delaware was so small that they had to fly in and out of Philadelphia due to the fact there wasn't a major airport in the entire state.

And that wasn't helping to soothe Catherine's frail nerves about Lindsay being alone in a different state.

Gil walked out of the bathroom, running a towel through his silver curls. He was dressed in a cream shirt and tan khakis, his feet encased in sandals. Seeing his wife laying on the bed forlornly in the same position that she had been laying in when he went in to take a shower, he walked over and sat down next to her. "Hey," Gil said softly, taking her hand in his. "You doing okay?"

"I miss her already, Gil," Catherine answered him.

"She misses you, too," Gil reminded Catherine. Lindsay had called them fifteen minutes after they left, and in a way, Gil was glad that he had been driving their rental car because he was pretty sure that Catherine would have made an illegal u-turn on I-95 to go back to Lindsay. In actuality, all Lindsay wanted was for them to send one of her favorite t-shirts that she realized that she had left at home. Gil had a feeling that Lindsay just needed to hear Catherine's voice, though, and even though she had promised that she would send the shirt, the two still talked for several minutes before hanging up.

"I know," Catherine finally answered him. She looked up at Gil. "I didn't think it would be this hard to let go," she admitted.

"I didn't either," Gil said. "I mean, from my point of view. She's only been my stepdaughter for a few weeks, and it was hard for me to walk out that door."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. I've known Lindsay since she was a baby, and I care for her as much as I love you. So, I can only imagine how hard it was for you to leave," Gil said simply. "It's going to take some time to get used to her not being there, but we'll get used to it."

"I know, but-"

"Hey," Gil cut her off gently. "She'll be home for Thanksgiving. That's only about three months away."

"That's true…" Catherine trailed off.

Gil wiped away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb, kissing Catherine gently on the forehead. "And then there's Christmas time, when she'll be home for a couple weeks. You're still going to see her, honey. And you know that Lindsay will constantly call you," he pointed out.

Catherine nodded slowly. "Thanks, sweetie," she said softly.

"You're welcome," Gil answered. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," Catherine admitted. "I didn't really look up anything about Philadelphia, so I don't really know what there is to do."

"Well, I talked to some folks at the front desk, and they told me about a few different places we could go to eat and just take a walk," Gil said.

"Okay," Catherine replied, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and standing. "Just give me a few minutes to get changed." Catherine carefully moved her arm from the sling, using her right hand to tug her shirt over her head as she walked to the dresser to find an outfit for the evening.

"You need help?" Gil asked Catherine, winking at her when she met his eyes through the mirror.

He simply laughed when her shirt hit him in the face.

~/~

A few hours later, Catherine and Gil strolled down the dock, the sun setting as the pair looked at the Philadelphia skyline from the Penn's Landing dock. They had just dined at an amazing pizza shop where they had foregone the typical salads and water that they normally would have eaten and focused on one of Philadelphia's famous cheese steaks and beers. Now, in order to walk off the calories, they decided to go to Penn's Landing at the recommendation of both the hotel clerks and the staff at the pizza parlor. This was the first time either of them had been to Philadelphia, and they had to admit that the skyline was simply spectacular. The buildings were outlined with bright lights, their reflection falling across the Delaware River as the sun set. The duo was somewhat fascinated by the history here: the founder of Pennsylvania, William Penn, had docked at what is now Penn's Landing in 1682. It was a huge difference from Nevada, which hadn't even been admitted into the union until 1864. There was so much American history in Philadelphia that it was almost difficult to keep up with it.

Catherine snuggled closer to Gil, the air cool despite the late August evening. She kind of wished that she was wearing something heavier than the loose cotton pants and tank top she donned, but the warmth radiating from Gil was enough to hold her off until they were back at the hotel.

Still, Gil noticed her shiver, and asked, "Are you cold?"

"A little," Catherine admitted. She allowed Gil to pull her to the side of the walkway, watching as he briefly let go of her hand to shrug off the light coat that he wore. He placed it over Catherine's shoulders, unable to weave the sleeve up the arm in her sling. Still, she felt a little warmer.

"Is that helping?" Gil asked as they resumed walking.

"Yes," Catherine said gratefully.

They walked in silence for several long minutes. They were simply taking in the sights and sounds of the busy dock. Families walked together, parents chasing after their children. Couples snuggled together just like Gil and Catherine. The younger couples couldn't keep their hands off each other, many of them playfully shoving each other or their hands trailed dangerously low as they stole a kiss. There were older couples were moving slower, their hands dangling together at their hips.

Gil noticed Catherine's steps slowing, and wordlessly, he guided her to an empty bench overlooking the water. He sat down first, gently pulling Catherine into his lap. It didn't take much coaxing for her to settle in his lap, her right side leaning against his chest, her arm snaking behind his back to hold her husband tightly. Gil reached up and tightened the jacket around Catherine before moving his hands down to securely hold her against his body.

Catherine pressed her lips against Gil's, a wave of giddiness rushing through her body as she and Gil sat on the bench, making out like teenagers. For several long moments, there was no one on the dock except for her and Gil, and the fiery make-out session that they were currently having.

Gil pulled back, gasping for air as he pressed his forehead into Catherine's throat. She felt his hand creep underneath her tank top, his fingers trailing over her smooth stomach. He smirked to himself as he felt Catherine's body naturally react to the motion. Gil knew the special spot that got her fired up, and it didn't matter that they were surrounded by hundreds of people.

"Gil," Catherine groaned, reaching her hand up behind his back and pulling on his bicep. "We need to stop this before we end up arrested for having sex in a public place."

He laughed in response, the rumbling against her throat sending shivers down Catherine's spine. Gil's hand moved from her stomach to her back, and they leaned in for another kiss, this time equally as passionate but not as desperate.

When they finally pulled apart, Catherine rested her head against Gil's chest, and the pair of them looked out to the water. "Are you happy?" Catherine asked Gil softly.

"I've never been happier in my life," Gil told Catherine. "How about you?"

"Same here," Catherine answered. She buried her face in Gil's hair, kissing the top of his head. "I don't ever want to be away from you. We waited too long for this, and it's just…perfect, Gil."

"Well, honey, I hate to break it to you, but I'm not going anywhere," Gil told Catherine. "You're stuck with me until the end."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Catherine admitted. They sat in silence again, until Catherine said, "I wish that we had a bottle of wine or champagne right now."

"Why's that?" Gil questioned curiously.

"So we could make a toast to each other," Catherine told him.

"Hmm," Gil pondered, shifting slightly as Catherine crossed her legs. "What would you toast to?"

"Well, to Lindsay's new adventures in life, first of all," Catherine said. Gil let go of her hip, lifting an imaginary glass in the air. Giggling, Catherine did the same with the arm in the sling.

Gil raised his eyebrows, opening his mouth to chastise Catherine. "I'm not going to hurt myself lifting an imaginary glass, Gilbert," she told him. "Look at it as therapy."

"Okay, okay," Gil grumbled, keeping his arm up. "What else would you toast to?"

"Hmm…" Catherine pondered. "To the grave shift of the Las Vegas Crime Lab."

Gil nodded. "They're going to be in the hands of Nick and Greg," he pointed out.

"I think we prepared them well," Catherine pointed out.

"Oh, indeed," Gil agreed. He paused, then said, "In a way, I always looked at Warrick, Nick, Greg, and even Sara as our kids, as silly as it is."

"It's not silly," Catherine replied. "I thought the same way. You and I guiding our kids through life, except our kids were in their twenties and life was crime scenes."

"See, I knew we were meant for each other," Gil said, squeezing her waist with his free hand. "We think too much alike."

Catherine chuckled, glancing at Gil. "What do you want to toast to?"

Gil was pensive for a moment, then said softly, "To Warrick."

Catherine nodded in agreement, lifting her hand to toast their deceased friend. In a way, he was the one who brought the two of them together. It was Warrick's death that drove Gil away from the crime lab, and it was then that the pair realized that they loved each other. "To Warrick," Catherine repeated.

Gil was silent again, then he said, "To you, Catherine Grissom. Without you, I wouldn't be complete."

"To you, Gilbert Grissom," Catherine answered. "I'll always love you no matter what."

"To us," Gil replied simply.

"To new beginnings," Catherine concluded.

And with that, Catherine pressed her lips to Gil's again.

~/~

End 14/14

Wow. I can't believe that what started off as a one shot turned into a full fledged story. This is the longest story I've ever written, and hopefully when all is said and done, it will be my most reviewed story too!

There are a few people I'd like to thank.

First of all, thanks to my friend Katy for looking over certain parts of the story, and for the constant yes/no replies of "Does this make sense?!" or "Is this too OOC?!" Thanks also to my amazing friend Kristen and her encouragement of the story. Also, her help with this chapter and her insatiable knowledge of the epic city of Philadelphia deserves a thank you, too. I love that city, from the crazy ass wrestling fans to the Liberty Bell. If you ever want to explore a city that is full of the rich history of our country, go to Philly. Thanks also to my friends Chris and Dan for their encouragement, though Dan's "helping" probably only is classified as pwning everyone in sight and then marking over someone getting their ass whooped. Chris – I'm glad you're giving CSI a shot, and I can't wait to send the Martian texts and IM's once spoilers start coming out, ;) Thanks also to HappyHarper13. She set me straight on a lot of the finer details of this story, and I really appreciate it. A lot of things would have probably been different had it not been for her advice. She's an excellent writer, folks, and I highly recommend her works.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed this story, especially the ones that stuck with me throughout the entire thing and reviewed each chapter. You guys are the reason that I write, and each review makes me smile and want to get out the chapters as soon as possible. I personally feel that this is one of my best stories I've ever written, and I am very proud of it. If you happen to stumble upon it years down the line, feel free to review. I'll probably still be around then. =)

Now…Time for a shameless plug. I have a story that I'm going to be debuting soon. It's not gonna be Grillows (*ducks*) but it's going to be very Catherine heavy, and is going to be YoBling. BUT there will be some strong Gil/Catherine friendship in there for you. I hope that some of you will hang with me for that one. Catherine's an amazing character, and Marg Helgenberger just brings her to life in a way that very few can.

Because of the fact that I'm such a nice person, here's a brief preview of my new story entitled "Trials". It's set around season 7, and has spoilers for Built to Kill 1 & 2. Enjoy, and I'll see you soon!!!

-Katie

~/~

Catherine felt like her head was going to explode by the time that she got to her house. She eased her stiff body out of the Mustang, stretching a little as she stared at her house. Lindsey sat inside, waiting for her mother. Catherine had called Lindsey earlier and told her that she wasn't going to school. Despite Lindsey's protests and questions, Catherine had firmly informed her that she would explain what was wrong when she got home.

Every muscle protested as Catherine made her way into her house. Her back, ribs, and neck still ached from the jolt that had occurred when her car was struck. Her knees creaked with every step, the many years of squatting and standing at crime scenes…not to mention dancing…finally seemingly catching up to Catherine. She silently resolved to herself that she would purchase some non-heeled shoes after Sam's funeral in an attempt to salvage her calves and kneecaps. Heels gave her some advantage when going face to face with uncooperative suspects, and Catherine hated to give that up. She also loved the way that her legs looked longer thanks to heels, and she felt sexy as she sauntered up to a crime scene, but vanity be damned if she was going to have double knee replacement surgery before she was fifty.

With a slight sigh, Catherine set her keys down on the kitchen table, her trained ears picking up on the fact that the television was playing. Saying a quick prayer that God would help her through telling Lindsey what had happened to Sam, she made her way into the living room. "Hey, Linds," Catherine called tiredly.

Lindsey was sitting on the couch, watching the news. She brought her gaze to Catherine's, glaring at her mother, unshed tears shining in the younger Willows' eyes.

Confused, Catherine looked at the television…

…And the headline that crawled across the bottom was enough to send a cold chill down Catherine's spine.

_Casino Mogul Sam Braun Murdered_


End file.
